Inferno Princess
by AnimeCountDown
Summary: The legacy continues. And she carries the name. Sequel to Amongst Hell Are Angels. OC.
1. It Is Not Far In Coming

The sky is the color of rusting armor, a crusty mixture of copper and silver, dull with age and yet still gleaming. It looms over the earth, a forewarning of the night, a confirmation of the twist in my gut. As my hands work methodically in front of me, I listen to the distant rumbling, feel it as my heart echoes the thunderous pounding, like the heavy chant of tribal drums reverberating in the air. The air that with every moment becomes heavier on my shoulders, static filling my ears with a low buzz that makes it difficult to not only think, but function at all.

Cool metal slides against my fingers as they steadily work, slowly drawing from them warmth until they tremble with a chill as perpetual as the darkening of the clouds. I watch as the pieces assemble and disassemble, sinking through flesh and slipping past muscle. The solemn face of the missing ninja, my assignment, looks to me, peering through me with his eyes unseeing. I ignore his sightless gaze, refusing to avert my attention to anything but my task and the impending storm creeping toward me with slow, malicious intent.

Extract information. Extract memories. Extract strengths. Extract abilities. Extract talents. Extract Kekkei Genkai. Extract identity. Extract life.

Extract existence.

It pours onto my hands as freely as if it is blood, ebbing from his lifeless form and seeping into me instead, festering just beneath the layer of my skin, where it so painfully does not belong. It pokes, prods, stabs at me from the inside until my hands feel ready to burst apart. Yet I endure it, the searing in my soul, overcome with the grotesque reality of having robbed another of not only his life but all he was once composed of.

The first drop hits my cheek with a solid smack, surprising me enough to pause, but I take up my work again with more earnest than before without bothering to look up. I know I will only see a furious spiral of the heavens, glaring down at my deeds with a mortifying snarl. My movements are precise and controlled; as much as I must hurry, I can not afford the price of fumbling. I do not let myself tremble, hesitate, or break my pace. It remains flawlessly constant and absolute.

By the time my job is finished, a thin mist has veiled my surroundings and the rain is falling steadily, as light and sweet as kisses. I stand, allow myself the luxury of stretching my spine, lifting my chin up until I face the wrath swarming angrily, quietly above me. Every brush of rain is like acid upon my cheeks, even as I wait, as I stand and stare and wait for nothing.

What is there to wait for, after all? The storm? A sign? Anything at all that might change the twists and turns of fate, and might rescue me from the cycling nightmares that escape from the dark hallows of my mind and into the vast expanse of reality, so far and wide I am trapped despite my greatest efforts? How can I wait so helplessly, so naively, for anything but my next mission, my next target, and hope ever so wishfully, when I dare, that my death might come quick and soon?

That I might be freed from Hell.

Lightning, blue in the ethereal half-light, slashes from the heavens, a merciful dagger crackling in warning. A crash of thunder swarms my ears just a moment later, the dramatic cue for the rain to begin its powerful descent. One moment, it sprinkles lightly, just barely a mist, and in the next, I am cloaked in heavy, lukewarm rain, cascading down my skin and clinging to my clothes. It is as though someone has been waiting, poised above me with a massive bucket in hand, waiting for just the right moment to tip it over and dump its contents over my head.

I can no longer wait.

The last of my work is to dispose of the body—the largest parts already lie dismembered in front of me, so it is only a matter of making them disappear. A fire won't do, not now. I take in my surroundings, noting the hard-packed ground at my feet. I can easily bury the body, but any uplifting of the soil is too risky, too noticeable. What then?

Scatter them. It is also a risk, but I know the area well enough to travel it quickly and obscurely. Biting down on my tongue, I gather up the pieces and watch the rain wash the blood into the dirt before sprinting into the trees.

A fox's den hidden beneath the thick underbrush of some trees. A cavern floor full of pocket holes I don't dare test for depth, a smell as foul as death wafting from their openings. A furious river that does not cease its rushing until it reaches the ocean miles and miles south of here.

By the time all that remains in my possession is his blood and life, the storm has arrived at full force. The wind screams and shrieks, clawing at me as the rain continues its ferocious onslaught. Thunder claps in time with each slice of lightning's forked blade, and I run.

From branch to branch, I fly, digging into the reserves of my chakra to increase my speed tenfold. I am done. Finished. All I want to do it go home and fall asleep. What kind of shinobi does that make me? That I so loath my work, my expertise? That it wearies me more so than actually completing the mission?

It doesn't take long for me to return to camp, and I duck into the main lodge to report in as soon as I arrive. My team captain sits with two others around a small fire, and he looks up at me expectantly, not quite surprised or impressed. His strong eyes study me briefly, and when I nod, he turns away with cool indifference. My dismissal. The flush of my cheeks is from the cold. My pounding heart from the dash back to camp.

So I tell myself.

I run from the wooden shelter through the rain and to my tent, ducking past the flap and into warm familiar safety. It's empty, aside from my own belongings and those of my teammates'. I crawl over to my side and dig into my pack for a meal bar, eyeing the bottles of soldier pills nestled next to the container that holds my insomnia medicine as I devour the food quickly. It is tempting, the latter, but they really do put me out, and in case of an emergency… I grab another bar, seal my satchel shut, and shove it aside.

I go through the same process every night. Wipe my mind clear until it is as blank as stone. Slow my breathing, slow my heartbeat. Unclip my pouches, unwind the cloth from my leg, untie my headband from my hair. I munch as I work, hands moving methodically before me. Once everything is settled, I curl up in my sleeping bag and stare at the opposite side of the tent until I fall asleep.

* * *

><p>"Could it rain any harder?"<p>

I open my eyes, instantly awake, and roll onto my back to watch Miyo climb in through the tent flap and tie it up behind her. She sheds her cloak with a shudder, shaking the water from her hair without a thought. I wince as the droplets spray me and my belongings, and I sit up with a sigh. Miyo doesn't notice.

"I mean, seriously," she goes on, discarding her weapon holsters and slipping out of her zori. "It's freezing out there. I nearly got blown away! How are we even going to complete any missions like this? You've got to be kidding me!"

As her ranting continues, I catch a glimpse of slow movement in my peripheral vision. To my left, Toshi sits with a book settled in his lap, legs stretched out and crossed comfortably in front of him. His gaze slides to mine knowingly, blinking at me from behind his rectangular, black-framed glasses. We stare at each other, Miyo's voice distant, and then he turns away.

"It's just water," he points out, disinterestedly flipping a page and ignoring Miyo's new wave of furious complaints.

I smile softly and climb out of my bag to crawl over to my satchel again and search through it for something more appetizing than a meal bar. When I succeed in finding a jar of dried fruit and meat, I sit back, observing my teammates as Miyo's annoyance calms to a simmer and Toshi's eyes continue scanning his book. We make for an unusual bunch, certainly, but we are enough of a team to get by alright.

"What time is it?"

Toshi's eyes lift from his novel even as Miyo pauses and shrugs apathetically. I turn to Toshi, who shuts his book slowly with both hands and sets it on his thighs, resting his palms on top.

"I got here almost four hours ago," he estimates, the calculating look in his eyes capturing me with its raw intensity. "You were already asleep then."

Over four hours uninterrupted; not bad. I nod absently, chewing on a chunk of salted pork to distract myself from his stare. A berry follows it; it explodes between my teeth.

"Did I say anything?" I finally ask, not daring to look back at his face, to look at those cold, unnerving eyes. Miyo turns quietly toward us when the silence lingers. She stares at Toshi. Toshi stares at me. I stare at my berries. My mouth is sweet with pulp and juice.

"No," he answers.

I breathe out, my nerves relaxing, and I nod again slowly. Another nod after a second, one last time, faster, to myself. I force my fists to uncurl, my jaw to loosen, my lungs to function properly. The rain outside spatters and the wind rolls against the tent. There is no more thunder, though. Only a warm, throaty rumble in the distance gives me any reason to believe it ever snarled in my ears.

"You aren't going out there, are you?" Miyo questions incredulously, wide eyes watching as I adjust my shoes on my feet. A smirk raises my eyebrow as I sweep up my cloak and pin it in place. "Are you crazy?"

"I need some fresh air," I reply carelessly with a shrug. It is a terrible excuse, and she knows it.

"Now?" she snaps, narrowing her eyes at me bitterly.

I slip outside, ducking my head against the rain. It has, indeed, become much more violent since I returned from my mission. The world around me glistens black with raindrops the size of coins, and I enter it with assured confidence. As I expected, I am alone in my desire to venture through the rain. I can make out the blurry outline of the other teams' tents, set into focus by the glow of lanterns on the inside. As I sneak past the main lodge, I note the fire has been smothered and our captains have gone to sleep. Or I assume that's where they went. For all I know, they have been sent on a mission.

Missions come and go sporadically and without warning, so there is no telling when any of us will be sent out—just like we have no idea which of us will come back.

It was worse when I first entered the ranks; the lower level shinobi are trained almost literally to the death. Only the strongest survive, while the weak are unfeelingly weeded out; that is how it works in Amegakure.

The Village Hidden in Rain.

I find the tent I'm looking for, the one with the wooden chimes dangling from the edges, and step inside, closing up the entrance quickly behind me before I can let much of the rain inside. It is still and quiet in here, the pattering of rain muffled on the protective tarp.

"Madara?"

My smile comes easy as I turn to face my two youngest brothers. Naru stares at me blankly, onyx eyes lost in the shadows of his dark hair. At his side, Suke's sleeping form lies curled beneath the blankets sprawled across Naru's lap. With a soft, quick sigh, I drop to the floor in front of them, crossing my legs beneath me.

"Long day?" I inquire, nodding in Suke's direction. Naru's lips curl affectionately, his hand stroking his twin's hair gently.

"Yes, I suppose," he answers, eyes distant, as they often are, lost in the world he and Suke share, and that disconnects them from the rest of us. "We finished our mission about an hour ago, I think. Had to fix Suke up 'cause he got hurt. But I think he's okay now. Just sleeping it off."

"I just woke up," I comment, tilting my head at Naru's fingers slipping in and out of Suke's layered pink locks. "Had to take out a renegade. Nothing challenging."

Naru stays quiet a moment, his eyes narrowed on the far corner of the tent. Out of all my siblings, it is these two I can never read—I figure it is because they are reserved for each other, their brains and hearts linked.

"It's been happening a lot lately," he murmurs, to himself, frowning softly. I blink at him questioningly, but he doesn't look at me. "The missing ninja."

"What do you mean?" I press, leaning forward eagerly. Naru is a chunin by now, knows far more than I do, and I take every chance I get to learn from the precious information his status and experience allow. He turns to stare at me blankly.

"They're getting tired of the war," he replies, with hardly any expression. I can see something flickering in his eyes, but it is faint and far from me. "They're disbanding, and they'll keep disbanding until no village remains. Until we're all rogue, scrambling in fear to protect and preserve only ourselves. Can you see it? It is not far in coming."

I stare at my brother, eyes wide. I can't breathe.

"Naru?" a soft voice chimes, like snow on flat, unyielding stone. The energy charging between Naru and I dissipates as suddenly as an unexpected _pop_, and we turn our eyes from each other, to Suke, whose eyes weakly peel open. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, really," Naru assures him tenderly, index finger tracing the curve of Suke's jaw. "I was just telling Madara about the mission, and she was telling me about hers."

"I see," he yawns, stretching out like a cat before pulling himself to a sitting position and rubbing his right eye tiredly. "Did everything go well, Madara?"

"Yeah, it wasn't too hard," I affirm, smiling at Suke's soft-spoken, sweet voice. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Oh, yes, very," he tells me, his smile not so much warm as it is soft and sweet. "It wasn't a serious wound, so I believe I'm about healed. Thanks to Naru, of course."

"Of course," Naru and I reply in unison. We grin at each other as Suke blushes lightly and falls into the cradle of Naru's right arm, and for now, I know I can simply let go of what Naru was saying before. Of what I don't understand.

For now, I can forget.

* * *

><p>I spend maybe an hour or more with my brothers, relishing the comfort their company gives me. As the rain weakens, however, sounds of life begin to fill the camp outside. It is no doubt daylight by now, time for teams to disperse. I embrace both Naru and Suke, holding them close to me before departing from their tent to allow them to prepare as well.<p>

I jog across camp, nodding in greeting to the shinobi I recognize or know from missions or my childhood. It isn't until I am just a few yards from my own team's shelter that I see Ryu. He catches my eye, beckons me to him, his gaze firm as it saddles mine.

"Do we have a mission?" I ask, hoping to appear either neutral or restless. But it doesn't seem to make a difference either way; he is busy packing his bag, so he doesn't look up at me.

"We have a target," he confirms, hands moving swiftly, swifter even than mine. His golden locks, damp and dark from the sprinkling mist-rain, stick to his forehead, sway over the tops of his eyes. "However, information points us both east and south. To save time we'll have to split into two teams."

I swallow hard, my heart stuttering until it aches.

"Once we hit the checkpoint, Toshi and Miyo will head toward Suna," he pauses then, solid eyes flicking to mine. I feel my face become hot. "You and I will go east."

The Fire Country.

"Yes, sir," I fight past the hold on my throat. I suppose I succeed, because he turns from me without raising a brow or shaking his head. He continues his work.

"Go inform the others," he commands. "We leave in half an hour."

I give another quick grunt of obedience and speed back to our tent. As I slip inside, the sun is clearing the remaining rain, and my breath comes and goes, shallow and fast. Miyo peers at me suspiciously, still annoyed from before, but Toshi is nowhere to be seen.

"Mission in thirty minutes," I gasp, still struggling to regain my composure. At her stare, I avert my attention to my supplies and ignore her until she speaks.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she demands. I can feel her eyes in my head. I duck my chin, as though I can evade her, as I strap my holster to my leg and fix my pack.

"I went running," I answer briefly, knowing my lie is too weak to fool her. "That's all."

"Right," she scoffs, and turns her back to me with a huff. Her moods have been up and down more often than usual lately, but I am surprised she's willing to drop the matter so easily.

I'm not going to complain or wait for the next mood swing, though. If Miyo decides she isn't in a nosy, talkative mood, I'm not about to try and change her mind. I slip on my leg holster, adjust my pouch, and when my pack is secure, I fling it onto my back. Our tent will stay up, either for when we return or for the next team to enter the camp.

"If you see Toshi, let him know," I say, more kindly than I intend.

I leave the tent so she can pack on her own. The mist has cleared, though the sun still makes no effort to brighten the earth. It slouches, lethargic in its bed of clouds, refusing to rise like a child hiding beneath the covers. Smiling grimly at the grey, groggy sky, I set out in search of Toshi, moving steadily from one end of the site to the next. By the time three minutes have passed, my pace quickens, my movement less controlled. While my team was deployed to this campsite no more than a month ago, such a time is enough for me to memorize every tent's location, and I can find Toshi nowhere.

"Madara!"

I start and spin, hand instinctively flying to my side, fingers itching for a kunai. I blink twice, at Ryu, who stands not five feet away. Toshi is behind him, peering at me through his glasses. Ryu raises an eyebrow, not out of interest or warning, but instinct. Toshi's expression remains iced. None of us move until I relax, my hands falling to my sides. I try for a sheepish smile, but such a thing is foreign on my face, and all I feel is stupidity coursing through my blood.

"We're ready to go," Ryu informs me, not commenting on either my jumpy behavior or the face I'm making. I nod once, and follow him when he turns from me and strides away purposefully. I fall in line with Toshi, but he does not spare me a glance.

I keep my eyes on the cords of muscle flexing rhythmically in Ryu's neck, to distract myself from Toshi's uncomfortable presence and to make sure I do not do any more stupid things.

* * *

><p>We're traveling until we reach the border of our country, and I absently keep one eye on the sky rolling ahead. Watching the clouds slowly dissipate and the landscape gradually change. I am used to skyscrapers and muddy valleys, sparse and uninhabited woods, a perpetually stormy world. It is still a wonder to cross into a land where the air is fresh, the ground dry, and where life thrives freely.<p>

The journey is uneventful and short, and the checkpoint may be even duller. Miyo is still miffed about earlier and stalks away to be by herself. Neither Toshi or Ryu are any more interested in being social during our rest. They exchange only a few words, and I know that's because Toshi will be in charge of his faction once we split up. I find a corner of the checkpoint's border and restock my energy with a couple soldier pills and some water. I know we've only been on the move for a few hours, but I can tell by the dramatic change of scenery that I'll need all the energy I can get in order to be prepared in such unfamiliar territory. Dark and gloomy has been replaced with a brilliant sun only partially covered with clouds. It is a color the sky was never meant to be, so bright and clear. As everyone else eats and stretches, I keep my face turned up to that miraculous, impossible blue.

My mom used to tell me about a blue sky, one I had never believed existed until I was sent on my first mission out of the country. I'd thought it was just one of her stories, her children fairy tales that we coaxed out of her every so often when we were little. But no. There it is, beautiful and surreal, dotted with clouds that are white rather than black. How many of her other stores were actually true?

"Are you ready?" Ryu's voice shoves me from my thoughts; I push to my feet to face him, a wary smile betraying my anxiety. "The others went ahead, to the east. We should go soon."

"Of course," I agree, snatching my pack up from its resting place and slinging it over my shoulders. "Let's go ahead and leave now."

"Alright," he murmurs, his body leaning forward a sudden moment, before he turns from me and darts up to the trees.

Ryu is one of the most respected—and feared—shinobi in Ame. He is just a year my older, but he is said to have extraordinary ability… The few times I've ever watched him in real combat, he only used taijutsu and a few basic ninjutsu. I have no idea what he is actually capable of, but I'm not exactly eager to experience it for myself. He is terrifying enough without powers, what with his towering height and death-swept eyes…the muscles chorded along his arms and the set stone of his lips…

I shake my head clear, focusing my eyes on each branch I propel myself toward. Not on him. Not on Ryu.

* * *

><p>I drop next to Ryu, careful to keep the distance between us decent as I lean forward to peer through the brush. I immediately recognize the tents and the congregations of armed shinobi; it's a war camp. However, it's nothing like ours. In the camps stationed near Amegakure, there is an undeniable aura of misery and weariness constantly permeating the air. This place is full of laughter and friendship. I bite my lip as one young man strolls past with his female teammate. They're so fascinated by each other that they do not notice us, but they're close enough I can make out the engraving on their headbands. A sideways leaf.<p>

Shinobi of Konoha.

I chew on my bottom lip and resist the urge to look at Ryu—I keep my eyes on the camp in front of us. There are five tents, and what looks like a single three-man cell for each, plus each of their captains: much smaller than the camp where we were stationed. I've heard rumors of Konoha's more luxurious lifestyle, reflected in the size of their tents and the boldness of their fire, the food being passed around in abundance, the casual conversation and occasional laughter.

I have to struggle with both my awe and envy to keep my head clear. This is an important mission, I know, and if I let Konoha's irresponsible behavior distract me, I'll screw up for sure. I blink.

What if it isn't irresponsible?

What if Ryu and I are the ones being careless?

I activate my Sharingan just as the ninja behind us dives from the trees, and throw myself into Ryu seconds before the kunai thud into the earth where we crouched just moments prior. We roll to the side, but I can hear the bomb tags fizzling away, and I can only pull us both to the ground before the explosion rings in my ears. Uprooted soil flies in my face; rocks and twigs catch on my skin. I spit out a mouthful of dirt and spring to my feet, raising my hand to snatch a kunai heading my way out of the air. I spin it in my hand and use it to parry more incoming projectiles.

Ryu is suddenly on his feet, plunging into the storm headfirst, hands working signs furiously. He evades every weapon flawlessly, approaching the enemy quickly. Through my Sharingan, I see them hesitate.

A torrent of fire erupts from his mouth so suddenly I gasp; there are no more knives aimed at me. The enemy is too preoccupied with getting away from Ryu's raging fire, which is whirling around the camp like a flaming vortex, as alive and with a mind as its creator. For some reason, I expected them to panic and swarm, but they don't. Of course they don't. They are moving in perfect formation, and one of them is releasing a water jutsu just as the whistling of the blade reaches my ear.

I shift my head to the side, but the kunai slides into my cheek on its way past. I can tell it is burning, but I don't feel it. The next knife is easier to block as I spin to face my opponent. My Sharingan takes him in, all of him, in a second.

Approximately one-hundred seventy-five centimeters tall, about fifty-nine kilograms, milky complexion, shoulder-length black hair, and eyes as translucent as butterfly wings. At first, I am disappointed there is only one of him, while Ryu takes on more than a dozen just a few yards away. But then the eyes become clear and I brace myself, Sharingan beginning to whirl to life. I might have grown up in Ame, but my mother had plenty of bedtime stories for my siblings and I when we were younger—stories that, for her, were memories. And though I've never seen them for myself, there is no mistaking the eyes of the Hyuga. The Byakugan.

Konoha's last surviving prize.

"Can see right through me, can't you?" I ask, not expecting an answer, or even a reaction. But the surprising twitch of his brow makes me grin despite the tremble of anticipation in my bones. "The meeting of a lifetime. How many years has it been since Hyuga and Uchiha faced each other in battle?"

He says nothing, but sinks into a stance I've seen before, one I've been trained to one day fight against. Knees bent, back foot angled away from me, front foot pointing in my direction, right arm tucked at his side, left arm stretched toward me palm out, relaxed. The muscles around his eyes twitch and crinkle, morph until they bulge from his skin. Muscle and veins, pulsing with the ability to see all my body contains, chakra and all. This is Gentle Fist. I wonder if he assumes I do not recognize it

"Too many," he replies, successfully surprising me. I wasn't expecting an answer.

But the moment is more strategy than a desire to chat; he darts forward the second I'm off guard, thrusting his palm right at my chest.

He's too slow, though, for my Sharingan. I have many options, but the safest is to duck, so I do. The heel of his palm slices through some of the hair above my head as I drop to a squatting position, balanced precariously on the balls of my feet. Sharingan spinning, I touch my hands to the ground at my left and use the momentum to swing my legs around at his calves. I make contact, but he gracefully composes himself as he falls, twisting to land on his hands and springing into a crouched position.

I'm already standing, hands signs flashing quickly. His eyes narrow just as my jutsu is complete, and an inferno erupts from my mouth. It's one of my default, awe-inspiring, buy-time-to-think jutsus. There's no way a skilled ninja will fall from a general fire technique like this, but it's impressive and fuels my veins with crackling energy. It's even better than Ryu's jutsu from before, but that's only normal. I'm an Uchiha. Fire thrives inside me.

I'm right that the jutsu doesn't faze him—I see the works of the Eight Trigrams Palms Revolving Heavens move cutting through the flames—but I've already developed my strategy. When he looks up, there are four more of me. I spread my clones out, sending them to circle him; he watches carefully, no doubt attempting to pick out my chakra from my clones; but it won't work. My chakra has been distributed flawlessly.

I'm almost surprised he lets me surround him, and I begin to wonder what he's thinking when he doesn't stop our next set of signs. He's older than I am, experienced, and a Hyuga, meaning he's smart. He must have a plan, too.

But I've already begun my jutsu, and I can't stop the energy from pouring into my right hand, the one I slam palm-down to the ground. My clones act in precise unison with me, and as the earth crumbles beneath our hands, slowly crushed beneath the steady flow of my chakra, my opponent slides into a new stance. I can't tell if it's offensive or defensive. Electricity erupts from our fingers, flying to connect with each other, a steady stream of blue lightning running between my clones and I. His eyes twitch in concern. I smirk. He wasn't expecting this.

And it doesn't take much to direct the energy, until it has completely encompassed him, a dome of prickling electricity. All this I do in less than ten seconds. I release my jutsu and step back, watch it pulse once, twice, shudder, and then begin to condense. Not even his Revolving Heaven can prevent my electricity from either crushing or electrocuting him.

But Rotation wasn't his plan. Through the blurred veil of energy, I see him extend an arm upward with a flick of his wrist, and from his hand, a spear of light slices to the sky. My dome crackles fiercely, like the screech of a banshee, and presses on, but the brilliant thread of light expands and I watch, jaw hanging, as it interrupts the current enough that any resemblance of my jutsu disperses.

I have to recover, think fast. I was counting on that attack to at least hurt him, and he stands untouched. I clench my fists as he readies his next move. Energy from my jutsu crawls up my skin like rain dripping upward, gravity defied.

He dashes for me, and I can see the light clouding his own fist now. I wait until he is upon me to let the fire spill from my lips. I meet his eyes, red on white, but he doesn't retreat, even though he knows. The air is pulsing with electricity. The flames lick forward, and only for just a second, before they combust.

Explode like a star in the sky.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, there we go. Not what you were expecting? <strong>

**AnimeCountDown**


	2. Infiltration by Deception

_They're getting tired of it. Soon there will be no village left. _

Naru. I can hear him, though his voice is faded, like the colors in the Village Hidden in Rain. I can see it, the towering buildings, most of them shaped the same. Lights fight to shine through murky windows and warm water pools at my feet. I stand amongst faceless, hooded citizens, and stare up at my village. The sky is a soupy mix of grays, and rain pours until the world and all its colors begin to bleed. Everything melts, running wet into a colorless kaleidoscope ocean. Even as my world melts, it rains. It always rains.

When I open my eyes, the sky is blue above me, but clouded with a layer of thick smoke. Certainly, it is nothing like the world in my nightmare. I am awake.

I am alive.

Wincing, I sit up and take in my surroundings. Smoke is billowing a distance away—I can see it floating from the treetops. I'm alone, tossed over a tree root arching from the ground. I am far from Konoha's campsite, and far from the Hyuga boy. My ears scream, my muscles protest, as I force my legs to support me. I try to walk, but collapse against the trunk of the tree. I hope that guy is dead.

I lean against the tree, legs quivering beneath me. I don't know what to do. Ryu's probably still in battle. I can hardly move. I don't even know my mission. I never understood why Ryu likes to keep them secret until the last second. A shared paranoia by those in Ame, probably.

I need to heal before I can do anything. Easy enough—I can handle that. I close my eyes and test my chakra. It thrums perfectly through my body, and with a sigh of relief, I use it to begin checking my vitals. I'm in good shape aside from the massive bruising on my body. I ache, mostly in my ribs, thighs, shoulders, back, wrists, neck… Some basic medical ninjutsu minimizes my injuries, but it's all I can do. Medicine is not my forte, not like it is Naru's.

Naru. I open my eyes as his voice from my dream plays in my head. I wish, not for the first time, that I could be on my siblings' team.

I'm not, though, so I push away from the trunk and begin to head for the smoke. I wonder how much damage I caused. I only know it must have been a lot, and I can only be grateful I had my extra clone hiding in the woods. The explosion caught me before I could complete the substitution jutsu, but if I'd taken the full impact of such an explosion…

I cringe, but keep walking. I'm an idiot. It was a new, untested jutsu, and I'd assumed like a child that it would work flawlessly. I'd never thought what might happen if the jutsu wasn't able to complete itself, if the dome of high-voltage chakra was released into the air like that instead of running its course through my enemy after crushing him. I'll have to make serious adjustments to it. Maybe decrease the diameter of the dome or the times it takes to collapse… Then again, I've never considered the destructive force of combining electricity and fire. That, while I must be cautious, opens many doors to me.

My quick fix-up didn't do much. I'm getting tired again fast, and the more my legs ache, the further I feel from my destination. It seems just as I'm thinking I won't make it, my legs buckle beneath me.

I am not conscious long enough to feel my body hit the ground.

* * *

><p>My hands burn as though engulfed in flames. I cannot move, or even think. I know my hands are hurting, know they are being burned to a crisp, but I don't know why, or even how I should feel about it. Destruction, is that not my purpose? I am one sacrifice of many.<p>

But why? For what? For who? Who is it deciding my fate and purpose? And why do I let them? The burning intensifies, but I can now turn my head. I open my eyes, fight for control over my body. I won't let them own me any longer. Shinobi or not, this is not what I want!

I fall from the invisible restrains, onto my knees. But my hands still burn, and I can feel the pain now, the agony of my flesh peeling, sizzling, charring. I gasp aloud, pull them anxiously to my face. I need to put out the fire before my hands are beyond repair. But it is not fire that consumes my hands.

It's blood.

I wrench myself from my nightmare, the force of my desire throwing me upright, sweat coating my skin, body trembling beneath the familiar scratch of wool. It takes me a moment to register the blanket, the warmth at my side, the smell of food. I'm too busy staring at my hands. Pale skin, marred only with the occasional white line of a scar. There is no blood, only the contorting light and shadows cast by the campfire.

"Madara," a voice to my right softly speaks. I lift my eyes to Ryu, clueless as to what to say or do. He does not hesitate, though, as he hands me a canteen of water and a small meal. But he explains to me even though he does not need to, "You need your strength back."

He turns from me so I can make out his profile; he's so close I can feel him despite the space between us. I stare at the food in my lap, the blush across my cheeks as infuriating as my humiliating predicament. Because I was an idiot, Ryu had to find me, carry me to a safe place, and take care of me like I am a child. No doubt he watched me all night, thrashing through my various nightmares. I wonder what he heard me say, if I screamed this time. I scoff at the paradoxical idea: a shinobi with nightmares.

"Eat," he commands; he's watching me from the corner of his eye. "Can you stomach it?"

"Yes," I say immediately, but I can see his skepticism.

"Are you hurt?" he asks, and even when I seek for it, I don't find the concern I feel should go with such a question.

"No," I reply quietly. He turns his head to me, steady gaze warning me not to lie to him. "Just sore."

"How did the explosion throw you so far?" he inquires, raising an eyebrow high. "It was a powerful blast, but where you ended up is physically impossible."

"Substitution jutsu," I explain briefly. I lift the water to my lips, but my arms resist. "I only got hit by a little of it, but it was still too late."

"You didn't plan any of it?" he asks, brow still arched. "The explosion?"

"No."

I wonder for a moment what he's implying by asking that. It's clear it was a pretty bad move, but he almost seems to have expected me to have planned it. He must think I'm absolutely stupid. But still, I have to know.

"Did I kill him?"

He stares at me, and I have no idea what he sees. A silly girl with the marble complexion of an Uchiha, bruised and battered, helplessly huddled beneath his blanket. But I must know.

"I don't know," he finally says, and I feel my heart sink a little bit more. "I wasn't sure what happened to you when I saw the explosion, and the Konoha shinobi just stared panicking. The blow hit us too, so I retreated before they could regain control over the situation. When I picked up on your chakra signature, I just followed it until I found you."

I don't know which part of his claim to process first, so I just nod and change the subject.

"Where do we go from here?" I ask.

"I'll tell you if you eat," he compromises, surprising me so much I stare at him wide-eyed. He stares back until I take a bite of the bread in my lap. "We're looking for a shinobi Lord Pain has demanded be brought back to Ame."

"Lord Pain?" I repeat through crumbs. Such a high authority means this is serious work. "What ninja?"

"Someone who's supposed to have inherited a special Kekkei Genkai everyone used to think was extinct," he elaborates, but shakes his head, glaring at the fire with a fixed frown. "The only problem is that no one knows anything about him. To be frank, we don't even know if he's a _he_. There's no information on him at all."

"Then how are we even sure he exists?" I ask, mind whirling.

"Lord Pain's advisors," he sighs, running his hand through his hair. "All I know is that someone spoke word of an ultimate weapon, and Lord Pain wants it if he can have it, even if it's a slim chance."

"Do we have any leads at least?"

"Only the ones pointing to Suna and Konoha," he says, tilting his head. "We're already in the Fire Country, and Konoha has probably already been alerted of our arrival by now. Our descriptions will keep people on the lookout for us. I could send for a backup team or we can find another way…"

"Infiltration by deception," I suggest. He looks at me. "I'm not bad at genjutsu, so I can get inside the city fairly easily. I can scope the village and report back to you."

"That's too risky," he argues, even if his protest does seem half-hearted. "You're unfamiliar with their customs and citizens. You wouldn't know how to—"

"Ryu." We stare at each other. I don't have to say it. He, like, everyone else, already knows. "I was raised by two shinobi _from_ Konoha. I'm _slightly_ familiar with their customs. I'll be fine."

"If you used your Sharingan, they'll be looking out for an Uchiha's techniques," he warns, the resistance in his tone diminishing.

"Then it's a good thing I learned from the best," I say, and it seems to finalize our decision. Whether it's because he just doesn't want to argue or he knows it's the right choice or simply doesn't dare disagree with my statement. "I'll be careful. Just stay close by."

I can't explain the look on his face as he stares at me, and only partly because of the darkness. Doe he not trust me or do I seem incapable? The thought of either idea only makes my resolve harden.

* * *

><p>We think carefully before deciding how to infiltrate Konoha. I require a genjutsu that's believable and normal—something close enough to my own body shape so the technique won't require much chakra. Too much chakra might tip one of them off, but a simple enough genjutsu will be effortless on my part.<p>

I will be a merchant's daughter coming to find more wares. That's all, no more or less. In order to pass through, my genjutsu must cast an illusion strong enough to alter my appearance slightly—not drastically, just enough to not match Madara Uchiha's—and give the illusion I have updated papers. Of course, neither of us has a clue what such documents look like, so the genjutsu will be programmed to please the guard at the gate rather than register accurately to his eyes. Once I'm inside, I'll find a safe place and change my disguise again in case someone ends up thinking too hard and coming after me to double-check my papers.

The gate is glorious in the sunlight, shrouded in a clock of evergreen trees and lined by a terrific range of cliffs. I shield my eyes with my hand and peer at the faces on the wall. The six faces are rough, cracked, crumbling, but have been preserved despite the assault of time, weather, and war. My gaze is primarily fixated on the sixth, a man with coarse features and beady eyes.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Ryu questions at my side, voice low, nothing but a grumble. His doubt pisses me off.

"Of course," I respond, not evading his gaze. It didn't take long for me to recover, and I'm feeling nearly jumpy with all my energy. But I keep still, and I stare him down until he nods in consent. He claps a hand on my shoulder, his grasp warm and solid and large around my collarbone. I feel the brush of his fingertips on my skin, just below my throat. His eyes still grave and serious, as he gives his last word of advice.

"Don't die."

How endearing.

As soon as he's gone, I activate my genjutsu, knowing the guards will see only a girl slightly shorter than myself with coppery hair, a round face, and sweet brown eyes. I am meek, docile—not a threat from Ame. Papers in hand, I drop to the forest floor and the wide dirt path that leads directly to the gate. I'm as ready as I need to be.

I stroll breezily, as though there's nothing in my mind but air, approaching the gate at a leisurely speed. Inwardly, I twitch eagerly in anticipation, but I strictly control every one of my movements. I exit the shelter of trees, and the sun hits my face, the round squinty-eyed one that isn't mine. A smile stretches my lips, bright and stupid. I try to keep my heart from racing—the guards' eyes are on me, and I have to remind myself it's because I'm the only person on the road.

"Do you have your documents, miss?" the shinobi who steps forward asks. I take into account there are three of them total. I smile dumbly and nod, handing over a sheet of parchment.

As he leans down to inspect it, I remind myself all it will take is a single glance at one of my fingers to be overwhelmed by an overwhelming feeling of pleasure. The papers are blank, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. As long as his eyes harmlessly pass over my fingers, I'll be in the clear.

But he isn't looking at my hand; he's not even looking at the unmarked paper clutched between my jutsu-ready fingers. No, his eyes, deep and brown, are on mine, glinting with a sense of absolute knowing. My heart drops, but I keep my smile wide and naïve.

"My father sent me to find new wares for his shop," I say, making my eyelids squeeze so close together, I can barely see him. "Konoha has good merchandise, right?"

"It does," he answers, leaning back and scoffing a little. I blink at the shape of his teeth, unusually pointed for a human. "I'm sure you'll find everything you're looking for in our market. It's near the center, right in the heart of Konoha."

"Thank you very much!" I exclaim, tucking away the paper into my pouch. But when I straighten up, he's offering an arm.

"Would you like an escort?" he asks, teeth flashing as he grins. "I've had nothing to do all day and I'd love to assist you."

I feel the smile frozen on my face, but quickly force the paralysis to leave my body and nod eagerly. I even giggle as I take his arm and have him lead me through the gates, batting my eyes at him and blushing.

Damn it. He knows. My disguise is not a particularly attractive one, so his kindness is no more than a pretense, perhaps a game to see if I can play correctly.

A novice's reaction might have been to run. That would have been a dead giveaway and would have ensured a fight Konoha could easily win. A more skilled shinobi might try to play it safe by politely declining the offer. But I've been pretending to play a ditsy, silly girl; not accepting would be out of character and would arouse suspicion. So I have no choice to act like an idiot and waltz into the enemy's stronghold.

I am grateful he allows me to take in Konoha, though. It is absolutely magnificent, in all the ways Ame is lacking. The sun is blinding, the day golden, and people bustle about, smiling and chatting to one another merrily. No hiding faces or ominous, monotone rain cloaks. There are people in shorts and midriff tops, people playing jokingly in the streets. A group of children dashes by us, playing some sort of ninja game, and nobody yells or snaps at them. The aroma of baking bread, fresh noodles, and dango makes my mouth water, and I swear I can hear somebody singing. There are many buildings, as tall as the ones back home, but these stretch proudly rather than sulk gloomily on their foundations. I have been to no city but ones in my own country, none but Ame and the surrounding towns. This place is unreal, impossible. I cannot help but wonder, mystified, if I walk upon the ground of Heaven.

"You seem rather stunned," the shinobi at my side asks. I force a blush, close my mouth, and smile sheepishly, actions that are relatively unforced. But I am acutely aware of his arm linking mine. "Have you never seen a large village?"

"Oh, no," I lie smoothly, staring at my surroundings in exaggerated awe. "I come from a tiny village in Kusagakure. Everything is very tiny there, hiding in the grass."

It's true. According to my brother at least.

"I see," the shinobi smirks, clearly more amused than cautious. Why be on guard after all? I can't do anything to him. Walking about the streets are as many shinobi as there are citizens. If I attack him, I'm dead. He's probably leading me to my torture chamber now—I hope Ryu gets out of here before they begin to search the area.

Eventually, he releases my arm as we stroll into one of the shops, and he watches me as I gush over a collection of hand-carved masks. As I examine one that resembles a wide-eared fox, he chuckles, leaning against the wall. The storekeeper is preoccupied with a customer by the door. We're alone here at the back of the store. He's too close to me. His voice is hushed.

"You're genjutsu is good," he admits, and I don't say anything, don't even look at this peculiar shinobi. I stroke the smooth cheek of the fox. "I've rarely seen one better, in fact. And if not for me, I'd bet my life you'd have slipped right in."

"Special ability, huh?" I say, no longer bothering to exaggerate my voice. My smile is soft now, barely existent. He grins at me and taps his nose.

"You Ame ninja smell a certain way," he explains, and when I quirk my eyebrow, it only seems to amuse him further. "Like rain."

"And do shinobi from Konoha all smell like leaves?" I ask, a little haughtily, I admit, as I slide the mask back in its place.

"Something like that," he chuckles, eyes sparkling as he watches me. I sigh.

"So why didn't you just take me into custody?"

"Well, one, we didn't want to alert your team nearby," he says, and I know he's watching my face for my reaction. I give him none. After a pause, he shrugs and says, "And I wanted to see if you could keep it up."

"And did I succeed?" I ask sweetly, but I can tell he knows I'm sneering at him.

"Doesn't matter much now, does it?"

I can't run as he parades me to the most impressive-looking building in Konoha, the one I know will reveal the flesh-and-bone face of the current Hokage. A glance at the mountain gives me only a general idea of what he will look like. He will be older than his carving, more aged and worn. There will be more details, scars and wrinkles and pigment the stone cannot possess. As I enter the shadow of the Hokage's tower, I feel the shinobi draw nearer to me. I don't know if he's afraid I'll run or kill someone.

Inside, it is nothing like the glamorous interior of Ame's main building, the one that, at nearly all times, harbors Lord Pain. He is a king more than anything else, and he makes his hierarchy well-known in all the ways he has luxuries we can't afford. I've been in Lord Pain's home a few times—it's practically a castle compared to the simply furnished building I'm led through. My relief of being inside is surprising, but overwhelming. My fair skin isn't used to all the sun, even just a few hours of it, and I'm sure my skin will begin to redden soon, if it hasn't already.

My captor leads me up a spiraling staircase, and I must admit I'm blown away each time we pass a window. Higher and higher, the view only becomes more breathtaking. I could never fathom growing up in such a place. It's strange to think that both my parents did. I wonder what they would say, if they saw it now. Has it changed since they last saw their village? Has the war touched it at all?

"Right in here," he suddenly says, and I face the simple door before me. It's hard to feel intimidated by such a harmless looking place. When he opens the door, I'm not scared to walk through it.

But I am rather surprised.

The man at the desk does not look like a Hokage, though he resembles the stern face on the mountain. He slouches in his seat, legs propped on the desk, chin tucked to his neck. I blink, take in his plain, uninteresting garb and his coarse black hair tied back from his face. His skin is dark, far darker than mine, and I bet it's from years of constant sun. I can easily picture this man lounging beneath a clear sky, sleeping like a cat.

I cannot imagine him in the robes of Hokage.

"Sir," the shinobi says, but when he gets no response, I swear he looks embarrassed. He shifts, clears his throats, and tries again. "_Sir_."

"Yeah?" the man groans, voice at a pitch higher than I expected. It isn't terribly high, but…it is not ominous or frightening. He opens only one eye, peering at us lazily with a gaze as black as mine. "Who're you?"

"She tried to infiltrate," the shinobi chimes helpfully. I lift my head proudly, eyes unwavering. But his doesn't falter either. "She's a shinobi from Rain. Tried to walk right in with a genjutsu."

The Hokage says nothing. He's too busy staring me down, with two eyes now. There's a silence, and even though the wide window behind him still reveals a crystal blue paradise, my heart sinks. His gaze is beyond hard. I feel like he is seeing right into me.

"Remove your genjutsu," he demands, with so much authority, I do as he says almost immediately. I'm shocked by his abrupt change of character, and soon I am standing as myself before their eyes.

"She meets the description Hiroki's teammates gave," the younger shinobi says quietly, and I hear a hint of resentment in his statement. Inwardly, I sigh and curse my luck. They're friends. "She looks harmless, though."

"A beautiful kunoichi is never harmless," the Hokage warns, voice holding the wisdom of a man with experience. I almost smile. He's suddenly addressing me. "You nearly killed one of our best shinobi. A friend of mine's son."

Damn it. _Nearly._

"Your shinobi attacked us first," I say, knowing it is of no importance, but maybe I can buy more time to think. He raises an eyebrow, but he isn't easily distracted.

"How old are you?" he asks. It's my turn to look confused.

"Seventeen," I answer blankly, too bewildered to think of a lie.

"And you are from Ame?" he inquires. I nod. More silence; he's debating what to do with me.

"Do you want me to send her to Inoichi, sir?" the boy behind me asks. I immediately tense; interrogators.

They're speaking, but I've tuned out completely from their conversation. This is my first time in an enemy's hands, but I've heard stories of days of torture meant to extract information. What method will they use on me? Starvation? Dehydration? Pain? I shudder, but regret it as soon as the Hokage's eyes land on me. I am still. No movement. No fear. No weakness.

"Come here," he says, so softly I'm sure I imagined it. But he's swinging his legs from his desk and sitting upright, staring at me in partial disbelief and something else I can quite identify. "Just come closer."

I do, hesitantly, but there is something soft in his voice that I trust. The closer I come to him, the more details I register. Thin eyebrows. Dry, calloused skin. A scar curving around the left of his jaw and stopping at the bottom of his cheekbone. Strands of silver glinting in his thick black hair. Deep lines of age and experience at the edges of his mouth and eyes. Small black eyes like shiny onyx beads that peer at me carefully. Or more accurately, the place below my throat.

At first, the direction of his gaze concerns me, but when he reaches across his desk and his fingers capture the small, precious pendant dangling from my neck, I freeze for an entirely different reason. I watch him draw the necklace into the air, bring it to eye level as he stands to get a better look at it. It's a simple piece of jewelry. A bright blue stone framed by two small silver spheres, all dangling from a plain black cord. But the Hokage is fascinated by it. His eyes meet mine suddenly, and I've never seen a fire more intense.

"Where did you get this?" he demands, voice hushed. I stare back him. The look he's giving me makes my heart race, my legs tingle. I want to run away.

What have I gotten myself into?

"My parents," I answer, swallowing hard to get the words out. His hand clenches around the stone for a moment, and I fear that he will yank it from my body. But he doesn't. He merely tugs hard enough to draw me closer to him. His eyes search me.

"You…" he whispers, as softly as the faintest wind. I want to lean away from him, but the hold he has on my pendant is firm. "You look just like her."

My breath catches in my throat, and for a moment, my lungs refuse to function. Not my lungs or my heart or anything else in my body. My eyes truly meet his, for what feels like the first time since I walked into the room, and all my previous worries seem to fade. Background noise. The only thought that registers is ringing loudly in my ears. It's the only thing I can hear, as I stare into his black eyes reflecting mine.

This man knew my mother.

* * *

><p><strong>Review, yes?<strong>

**AnimeCountDown**


	3. Ladies First

His name is Shikamaru Nara. He invites me into his home, against all odds, and treats me gently—whether out of kindness, debt to my mother, or caution, I can't be sure. But he has his wife bring me tea while he discusses something—no doubt, me—to a couple shinobi outside. It's a simple dwelling, but a nice one, with open rooms and lots of windows that let in the sun. There's a courtyard out to my right, one plain that looks easy to maintain. It's just a square of grass and sun.

For a moment, I'm angry. These people, with all their privileges are able to bathe in the sun at their will, with no effort on their part, while we of Ame never see it at all… But I sigh as the sweet tea, perfectly brewed, touches my lips. It's the kind my mother always made, and now I understand why her tea was always so different from the kind they sell in the market. I can still remember sitting at the table, watching her brew it, helping her pick out the best leaves, the smell of them strong and intoxicating. I cannot hold the Hokage—or any of Konoha's people—responsible for where I live, or even where they live. I can't blame anyone for that.

"You're turning out to be quite a bit of trouble," the Hokage sighs as he joins me at the table. I watch him contemplate, his face reflecting whatever conflicting emotions he's feeling. His gaze flicks to mine. "Your name?"

"Madara," I answer, feeling it's safe enough. But with the way his face clouds over, I can't help thinking I just said something awful. I clear my throat. "My father's idea."

His face pales, and he drags his gaze from mine. I chew on my lip uncertainly.

"Of course," he finally breathes. As if it hurts him, he asks, "Are they both well?"

I tilt my head, pondering his question, my answer, and all it might mean. But in the end, I'm not quite smart enough to find the devious intent in what he asks me. Or maybe there really is nothing threatening to be found, only curiosity. So I shrug.

"I assume so," is my answer, but I guess it won't be enough, so I elaborate, "I haven't seen them in a couple years, but if anything happened to them, we'd be informed."

"We?" he asks, but I know he knows.

"My siblings and I," I say, nodding absently. "There are five of us in total. I'm the youngest. I don't see my oldest siblings a lot. They're much older, and became shinobi a lot sooner than me and my other brothers."

"I see…" he murmurs. We share the silence in a peculiar mix of comfort and tension. I stare at my tea.

"How well did you know her?" I didn't mean to ask. But I did.

"I grew up with her," he says, and for a moment, his eyes are far away, and I wonder what he felt for her. My heart lurches. "We graduated in the same class, though I didn't know her much then. I mostly just heard about her. My teammate was her best friend…"

His eyes fall to the floor, but mine remain on him. Our chests rise and fall, mine considerably faster than his. Who was she? This friend? I never thought of my mother having friends… Friends she left behind. No wonder she was always so sad. I'd just thought it was the rain.

"I only began to work with her as we got older," he tells me, a wry smile on his lips. "She was…an excellent kunoichi."

"Is that why you're being nice to me?" I ask weakly, my hands tight around my cup. I gaze at him, careful and wide-eyed. The tea is no longer steaming. I see him glance at my necklace again.

"No," he finally answers, then sighs. All the tension falls from him, and he's all of a sudden the man asleep at his desk. He yawns, scratches his forehead. "Tch… Troublesome… We'll be figuring out what to do with you soon…Madara. For now, I don't want many to know Konoha has an Uchiha inside the walls again."

I nearly drop the cup as his words hit me in the face, register for the first time, and he seems to realize, because he stands and leaves the room without a word. He closes the door behind him and leaves me alone with the full force of the consequences of what I have done.

* * *

><p>I wish that killing myself would fix the problem. I would gladly do it, but unless I can entirely annihilate my body—and I'm not sure I can—I'll only do more damage than good. I must think instead of a way to keep Konoha from my eyes. As soon as I'm over the initial shock of my revelation, I hop to my feet and set down my tea, now cold. They confiscated my weapons, but left me my chakra. Not enough to last a fight, but maybe enough to get me out of here if I'm careful enough. The courtyard is my best bet, so I slide open one of the doors as silently as possible, and step out onto the shaded porch.<p>

"Need some fresh air?"

I nearly scream, but I thankfully refrain. The shinobi from the gate grins at me foolishly, and I can't help but scowl. He knew I was trying to escape, but it remains unspoken between us.

"Yes," I hiss, making no secret of my annoyance. He barks a laugh, pushing out into the sun and stretching. I watch him, irritated but curious. His hair travels down his neck like tufts of brown fur, but it's cropped short over his headband. He's tan, too, from the sun, and his eyes are a perfect brown. Those fangs. "Guard dog, huh?"

"Yukio Inuzuka, at your service," he introduces with a bow that I think is supposed to look flourished, but only looks silly and clumsy. I blink at him. "You're Madara, right?"

I give only a nod and we lapse into silence. Once my heart is calm, I slide into the light as well, turn my face up to the sun. Its delightful warmth is irresistible, like a plate of steamed buns after days of starving or a clean basin of soap and water after a long and tiring mission.

I still can't imagine living here, and not only because of this perpetual sunlight. It's Yukio's easy smile and the Hokage's lazy yawn. It's sounds of laughter, the birds and dogs and other living things. It's the lack of grey, the lack of blood and tears, the lack of hopelessness. It's the rustling of green leaves and the shiny surface of the cliff face, the smell of the clean wooden walls and the soft blue that blankets what I know is actually a black sky.

I force my lips to smile—a real smile, like Yukio's. It feels so foreign, I stop instantly. But I try again and hold it still, but even as the seconds pass, it doesn't feel normal. I can't imagine doing it every day, doing it out of instinct rather than conscious effort.

"What are you doing?" he laughs, and for a second, I'm embarrassed. I press my lips together, smile disapproving.

"Smiling is strange to me," I tell him, peeking a look at his expression. "I've seen so much of it here in Konoha, I was just wondering what it felt like."

He stares at me, and I'm glad to see there is a chaos of emotion in his eyes. If I can't do anything else, maybe I can at least guilt a couple shinobi while I'm here, for kicks. Yukio was the one who figured I looked harmless after all, since I'm a girl.

Harmless. Because I'm a girl.

_A kunoichi's greatest strength will always be the way others underestimate her, Madara. We are pushed to the background more often in this great show of ninja. One woman in a four-person cell. Always one. Not as fast, not as strong. Especially a pretty one like you. They'll never expect what you can do._

I stare up at the clouds, letting the words bounce around in my head for a while. I think Yukio is saying something, but I'm focused on the sky and my own musings. When I feel an anticipated grasp, hesitant and gentle, on my shoulder, I look at him, my eyes rimmed with tears not yet heavy enough to fall.

"Are you okay?" he exclaims, clearly startled. He shifts away from me, gaze frantic as he searches for help in the courtyard. His gaze meets mine again, but I glance away, turning from him shyly. "What? What is it?"

I wait a good three seconds before answering. I sniffle.

"I…was just thinking about some of the last things my mom said to me before I became a ninja," I murmur, avoiding his gaze as he watches me wide-eyed. I feel a tear run down my right cheek, make a show of wiping it away with a whine of frustration. "They take us away, the young ones, and send us onto the frontline… I haven't seen her in years… I just can't imagine how disappointed in me she'd be."

"No, no, don't think that," he rushes, voice quiet, his hands twitching anxiously in the air, searching for something to do. I whimper softly, turn my eyes up to him. He takes my hands suddenly, brings me close to him. "I promise you'll be okay, alright? The Hokage won't let anything bad happen to you. Trust me."

I want to.

I realize how easy it would be, as he pulls me to him and holds me against his body, warm and solid, easy to lean on and know he won't fall. People don't touch each other this way in Ame; I've only ever seen such intimate gestures between my parents. My heart trembles, my nerves quiver, and I gasp aloud, a soft sob against his shoulder. Yes, it would be easy to trust this boy, such a kind and gentle, and naïve fool.

He goes down almost silently when I strike the sensitive pressure point at his neck, a jab of chakra all it takes to knock him into slumber. As I pull him into a more comfortable position, I hope his dreams are pleasant, even as I marvel over how easy it was to trick him. There's just something about crying girls that freaks guys out. I wipe away what tears I managed, flicking them to the earth with a grimace. I do not even want to look at them.

They came far too easily.

* * *

><p>To be honest, I thought I'd had a pretty good plan going for me, but my initial pride in escaping from Yukio is quickly squashed as soon as I get onto the street. There are shinobi everywhere, and I realize as I duck into a dark alley that there's no way I can just waltz out the front gate. I need to find a different escape route.<p>

I turn to the Hokage faces, searching them carefully. When Ame made its initial strike to begin the war, Lord Pain anticipated that Konoha would suffer the greatest of causalities. With the Nine-Tailed Fox let loose on its people for the second time, the bloodbath was great. But by dawn, Konoha was already recovering and preparing for retaliation. How did so many people, even the weakest of citizens, survive such a terrible attack? They would've needed a place to hide out until morning, when the Kyuubi became bored and weary and retreated sullenly to disappear. And only a few places could withstand the mighty blow of the demon fox.

I make my way for the foot of the mountains as carefully as I can. I keep to the shadows and alleyways, and I only move during moments when the crowds thin out and eyes are not on me. It's a slow-moving process, but I know my precautions are executed well when I begin to spot the teams of shinobi searching the crowds. To the citizens, nothing is out of place. But I see their concern, their careful movements, their panicked eyes. An Uchiha hiding in their midst. I smirk.

How frightening.

By the time I reach the bottom of the cliff, the sun has descended considerably, and I can feel my skin beginning to prickle, unusually warm against the cool breeze of night. Sunburn. Once I'm safe, I'll set about fixing myself up a little, but my current priority is getting out of here. I can hear shinobi gathering, searching for me, but they've all congregated near the head of the village. I'm free to sneak along the cliff until I find a narrow path stretching up its face. I shift up it quickly, thankful for my dark hair and clothing, wishing I wasn't so pale. But the moon is new, and I'm shrouded in shadows.

My searching leads me to a wide cave, and I know I've found it. The high-sculpted ceiling and worn-down flooring, this is clearly a man-made dwelling, a perfect fortress for Konoha's defenseless. With this kind of a cave, there's no telling how far it goes, or if there are any tunnels connecting it to an outside source. My guess is no, so the village wouldn't be left with a blind spot, but I can always create an opening on the other side of the mountain if I need to.

As I travel deeper into the cave, I think about the boy we were searching for, the one of supreme power. It's silly enough to go searching for him in Konoha. I know that every village has its traitors and rejects, but even if we found the kid, why would he fight for Pain? And besides, that kind of thing—prophecy-type stuff—is dumb. Hundreds of shinobi are born with great Kekkei Genkai abilities, and Ame already has some of the best. The Sharingan, for one. And Rinnengan, the other ocular jutsu my father once warned me about.

I frown and almost stop. I remember that day well. It was a special day in Ame, one of the few in the year when the clouds cleared for a bit and the light brightened our faces. I was only six years old, and I was delighting in the brilliant sunlight I'd very rarely seen in my lifetime. It was, I remember, the first time I'd seen my mother smile in a while, and it was a smile that dazzled me as much as the sky. It was then it occurred to me how beautiful my mom was. Is. She still is.

I remember that day, though, when there was no rain and my mother smiled softly. It was never like how it is in Konoha, no, never that bright. A thin veil of clouds still covered the sky, just breaking enough for the sun to come through, like the way it filters through a canopy of leafy trees sometimes. It made the light muffled but iridescent, a peculiar yellow kind of light, but it was the most radiant thing I'd yet to see as a child. So we begged, my siblings and I, for her to take us out, which she always hated doing. She preferred staying on our hall, in the grand house in which we lived with the other men father worked with. We were allowed to roam the grounds, but mother refused to leave her sanctuary, unless for special occasions. Except for dad, of course. He could sometimes coax her out. I've never seen one more gentle with a person than in those moments, as if at any time, his touch or voice could break her. Those moments filled me with awe.

But that day was a special occasion, and she agreed to take us out, if we each promised to behave. We did. So she gathered us up and wrapped us in light cloaks—just in case it started raining again—the backs of which were embroidered with our family crest. And she ushered us out, hands hovering protectively near us. It was just me, Naru, and Suke by then, and we had a strong bond that kept us close to one another, so it was easy for her to keep an eye on us.

Everyone was out that day, to quietly indulge in a rainless day. It wasn't a moment of camaraderie or even unity. With everyone's hoods bunched at their shoulders, I was looking at faces I'd probably passed many times before, but never seen in my life. But as I passed, those we crossed never failed to offer some form of respect. They bowed, nodded, placed hands over their hearts, some kneeled. It was the crest they recognized even if my face was foreign. And it was my name they bowed to. I think the bowing, the staring, that's what bothered her most.

Princess Madara. That's what they called me.

Still do, I guess, like how they call Pain a Lord and whisper delicate names to my parents. I never really understood until that sunny day why the Ame citizens looked to my family in adoration. Until that day, I never understood it was actually fear.

My legs are actually getting kind of tired, and I use the wall to keep my stride quick. There's no way I can stop now, not before I reach the end, but damn, I could use a soldier pill. Except they took those, too. My medicine as well. The thought makes me deflate a little. Nothing I can do about it now, so I don't dwell on what I've lost. Could've been worse.

They could've taken my eyes. That is a thought that makes me shudder and cringe. I don't know what I would've done. I don't fear any information they could gain—they must have more even than Ame. Maybe. But I know they can take the Sharingan, and implant it in one who is not an Uchiha. Yes, my mother told me about people like that.

_We may be born with this sight, but it is a treasure many others will seek, one that many can take._

My father's words from that day, when the sun managed to cheer her up enough that she was filled with enough life and desire to do _something_. And so, we came across the village, giggling to each other merrily, in search of my dad, who my mother wished to spend the beautiful day with. But the closer we neared Lord Pain's mansion, the more hesitant she became. It's where he most likely was, and she knew—simply knew—because she and dad had this way of feeling each other when they were far apart, like they were really a part of each other, connected by some invisible bond.

We were allowed access to Lord Pain's home, and I know I'd been in there before, but that day was the first visit I lucidly remember. And as we stepped inside, mother changed. But I honestly can't remember too well how she reacted. I was too concerned with the sculptures, the chandeliers, the grand staircase, the ornate fixtures on the walls and door. It was a foreign home, one filled of things not found in the shinobi countries.

He greeted us at the staircase.

I can see his face in the darkness of the cave, startling, striking, frightening. With a shock of fiery orange hair and metal bars pushed through his nose. And his eyes. Clear, purple, and ringed. This was Pain.

This was the Rinnengan.

I slide to the floor and put my head between my knees, breathing carefully and quietly. The cave still goes on endlessly, and only my enhanced eyesight offers me any form of light by now. My hope has diminished greatly, and I can't help but feel I've fallen again into one of Konoha's traps. I want to keep going, I want to find the end, but I can't bring myself to get up. I'm too tired.

So I sit in the black, unable to go to sleep for fear of meeting Pain in my dreams. I miss my medicine. I miss my brothers. And sadly enough, I miss the rain. Eventually, I plop onto my side, the stone cool wherever it touches my skin. I stare at nothingness, my Sharingan retreating. I suppose I'll just wait here until I fall asleep. Until I'm no longer dead on my feet.

When the cave abruptly lights up, I'm too blinded by the sudden change to do anything but yell out and scramble to my feet. A body strikes mine full force, throwing us both off balance and toppling to the cave floor. We grapple for a moment, at a stalemate while I try to blink my vision clear. It's easy enough, I'm surprised, to match my attacker's strength despite how disoriented I am. I guess I was expecting Yukio or the Hyuga boy or something. But with this body shape and build and strength…

She's probably smaller than I am.

Which makes her idea of attacking me head-on an awful one. The second I activate my Sharingan, I've already won. I see each of her moves coming, and within three seconds, I have her pinned. I raise my fist to catch her in the face, but the sharp tip of steel brushes my throat.

"That's enough of that," a deep voice, distinctly male. Unfamiliar. I grit my teeth, lower my fist, and twist my head to look up at him, but he's a silhouette against the white light. He nudges me lightly. "Up you go."

I do as he commands, knowing that without a supplement pill, I can't take him on. I'm too small, too tired. He's tall, broad-shouldered, and I can see a glint of silver catching on his hair. I can feel experience radiating from him, as much as it does the Hokage. He gestures with his kunai.

"Ladies first," he says, sounding more tired than mocking. But I plant myself firmly anyway.

"Then I believe she should lead the way," I say, voice calm, level. But I hear her huff of anger. I shrug. "More of a little girl than I am."

"What did you say to me?" she shouts, so loud, her voice echoes obnoxiously against the cave walls. When she thrusts her face into mine, I give her my best glare. But I must give her props; she doesn't flinch at the blood red of the Sharingan at all. "Don't underestimate me, Uchiha!"

I smile sweetly.

"Too late."

* * *

><p>The man manages to hold her off me long enough to get us walking back in the direction of Konoha. My mind is spinning frantically in search of a new escape plan, but my chances are low. She's grumbling like a child, but she leads the pack. The guy is behind me, and if I'm concerned about anyone, it's him. The girl I can handle. She's a couple inches shorter and I no doubt have a few pounds on her too, maybe even a couple years. I could take her. But not him. He's not to be taken lightly. I'm still aching with a need for sleep, so I need to move fast.<p>

"So how long did it take you to figure out where I was?" I ask, keeping the cocky edge on my tone. I can feel them both tense, her because of me, and he because of her. "I must have been walking for hours at least. Are all Konoha shinobi so incompetent?"

"Shut the hell up!" she growls, whirling at me savagely. "Konoha is the best—"

"Inoka," he says sternly, and she shuts her mouth tight, still glowering. "Keep on walking. Stay focused."

She hesitates, trembling with the urge to hit me, but she does turn back around and begin to walk. I follow with a smile.

"You know, if you'd taken an hour longer, I would've gotten away," I press, nonchalant. "If I'd had just a few more minutes to recover, I'd have been out of here in no time."

"Shut up," she hisses at me over her shoulder. She doesn't stop, even though she's coiled to strike.

"Can't blame any of you, though," I sigh wearily. "Since you have such a lousy Hokage."

"You _bitch_!" she snarls, spinning into a roundhouse kick aimed at my face. I drop to a squat and lash out with my right leg, rolling through the kick to my left just as the male shinobi jumps for me.

My well-aimed hit has her on her back, but he quickly pulls up short, facing me as I stand smoothly. I can see him with my Sharingan, use it to calculate his movements as I prepare a fire jutsu. His hands move in time with mine, and when I launch my fire jutsu, so does he. I frown, but recover from my surprise, evading his barrage of shuriken.

Inoka comes at me from the side, but she's sloppy and easy to deflect. As I'm about to shove her away, I change my mind and grab her. Her back to my chest, my arms a vice around her neck, I meet his eyes over her shoulder, or at least I assume. I still can't see him. But he knows I can break her neck in a second.

But the world disappears before I get the chance.

* * *

><p><em>Madara<em>.

It's raining. Yes, it's usually raining. The clouds are a chaotic swirl of angry black and gray; there is no white or blue, and the idea of color is so foreign, I can't remember what it might look like. I stare at the sky, mouth parted. Water drips down my throat.

_Madara._

I'm in Konoha. Except it's still raining. I didn't know it could rain here. I didn't know this place was familiar with darkness. But the faces aren't blank. They stand on either side of the road, _of me_, lined up one-by-one as far as I can see. They face the person across from them, except their heads are turned, and with bulging eyes too large for their faces, they stare at me. All of them, as far as I can see, stare at me.

_Madara._

I don't see her, even when she calls my name. She is not among those with eyes too big, those watching me unblinkingly, unmovingly. Only the rain moves, and me, when I begin to walk. And as I walk, they turn their heads slowly in time with me. Eyes on me. Always on me. I keep walking.

_Madara._

I can't find her. And I'm walking in circles. Even though the road is pencil-straight, the faces are repeating, over and over. The faster I walk, the more they repeat, over and over, with their bulging, too-big eyes, over and over. And now they're smiling.

_Madara!_

I stop. Because she screams. And because the lightning flashes. And because all the faces are suddenly just inches away.

I open my eyes.

The smell of antiseptic burns my nostrils, but it reminds me too much of home to make me wrinkle my nose. Instead, I inhale deeply, and stare blankly at the white ceiling I wish was my own. My worries and fears may take a backseat for now. They haven't taken them yet. They are still mine.

"You're tricky," the man by the window says. I can feel wind drifting through it. We let it dance through the room, wait for it to subside. "And lucky."

"Did you know them too?" I ask. It's bright outside again. How long have I been out?

"I knew them both," he answers softly, much softer than the Hokage spoke of it. When I let my head roll to the side so I can stare at him, he is framed by the light, and I know he is the one who found me in the cave. "She… Your mother was my student."

I know this man. He's Kakashi Hatake, and my mother's tales aren't the only times I've heard his name. He's the copycat ninja, the one who never dies, the one who was supposed to be Hokage, the one without the blood or name to go with his Sharingan. I can make out details now, the mask and his hair, his hitai-ate askew. He's a lot older than my mom made him seem, but I must remind myself: she has not seen Kakashi Hatake in twenty-seven years. I briefly wonder how old he is by now. Then I wonder how he's changed.

"I'm impressed," I admit. I lift my head back so I can stare again at the ceiling. "Shinobi often don't live as long as you."

"Fate has reserved for me the punishment of losing those I love," he says, so plainly, I find myself staring at him again. His one eye takes me in, and I can't explain the way that timeless gaze transcends the Hokage's, as wise as his was. Kakashi is past wisdom or age. He is entirely something else. "For that, I need a long life."

"Why not kill yourself?" I ask, and something in the way he lets the silence crawl in and whisper answers in my ear makes me think he might have tried. But, no, because he speaks.

"Because there are still those I must love," he tells me, staring at me in his ageless way.

He means me.

"She's awake?"

We turn our eyes to the doorframe, where a young woman stands, clipboard in hand. She's flanked by two ninja: one I don't recognize and the little one from the cave. Our eyes meet.

"She heals quick," Kakashi says, and he has turned to face the window again. The nurse nods and comes to check on me, feeling my pulse and forehead, checking my blood pressure.

"Why make sure I'm okay?" I ask, cringing from the woman's cold, thin fingers. I'm too used to Naru, I guess. "You know I'll try to escape again."

"Kakashi!" the girl—Inoka—exclaims. I have a feeling she must have asked the same thing once.

"Friends in high places," Kakashi murmurs, ignoring Inoka, and to be honest, I'm not sure he's answering me either, because then he says, "The Hokage would like to test you."

"Test?" I repeat, watching the needle slip into my forearm and pour blood into the syringe.

"You are the daughter of two powerful ninja, one more feared than almost any other in the Bingo book," he responds, eyes on mine. "You have siblings. We want to know what we're up against."

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, so you have no idea how hard it was for me to wait a week to update this story! I'm so excited about how many people are actually reading this story! Because the characters are new, I was worried that nobody would be interested, but so many people are added it to their alert list and reviewing, I'm just so happy! I mean, it's not a huge amount of people, but way more than I was expecting. I'm just glad that people are reading it. This is one of my favorite stories so far. :3 Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you caught a lot of the symbolismconnections in here that I worked really hard to make shine. :) Reviews help me sleep at night. 3**

**AnimeCountDown**


	4. Roses

If they want to know how powerful we can be, they are making a huge mistake, and for more than one reason. Firstly, my eldest brother could demolish me in a second—he's far stronger , and I will never be an estimate of what he is. My sister is stronger, too, by far, though not even she can touch Koto. Koto can rival my father. Sometimes. On a good day. Mom says shinobi like father are rare, and cannot be made. They can only be born, and there's no other way.

Then there's always the fact that we all fight completely different. Koto runs on a purely offensive method, specializing in taijutsu and various ninjutsu. Tsuna is an offensive medic, who can tear a body inside out with only a few strikes. Naru and Suke come as a package deal, one using defenses, while the other charges into battle.

Me? I'm what you call useless.

Clearly.

So when they drop me in an outdoor arena with a man twice my size, concern does flicker across my mind. But he looks heavy, so my Sharingan can take care of my speed, and my fire jutsu will keep him away if he gets too close. There, that should be enough. Show them what they already know I can do.

He's faster than I expect, but still too slow. I dodge, duck, roll, jump away, one time after another, with him chasing me around the arena. It's a boring game, but an easy enough one for me. The people watching must get bored, because suddenly, my opponent retreats without warning, and after a long still moment in which a bird cries out above me, a new one drops from the sky.

It's the tiny one, that girl. Inoka. I nearly hiss at her the first time I dodge her attack, but I'm up and moving before I have the chance. She's fast enough to keep me busy, her double swords swinging fast around her body. But I'm just as nimble, just as lithe, and I've had my fair share of experience with swords. Her movement is nothing like the artful dance of my father. Not a thing.

This time, _I _get bored, so I grab an opportunity to trip her when her swing is too heavy and she's already off-balance. She stumbles, and drops one blade as she reaches out to catch herself, and I snatch it up, and then _I'm_ attacking _her_.

I'm no master at swordplay, but her defensive skill is her weakness. With her speed, she could dart around like I have been, but when she parries instead of dodges, and I see the clench of her jaw, I know it's her stubbornness that hurts her.

That's fine. I don't care if I kill her. She pisses me off.

But the oncoming attack at my right makes me retreat, flip back onto my hands and spring back to my feet, blade at the ready. It's the boy from the hospital, but I only get a glimpse of his face before he leaps at me. They work well together, I'll give them that. His swift, steady string of attacks complements her erratic, uncontrolled style—but it's still easy for my Sharingan to keep track of. She has one sword, and he comes at me with a kunai—two blades against one. Even if I block and dodge every attack, they are managing to push me back. They're cornering me.

As soon as the thought crosses my mind, he jerks away from me, and I'm left to face her alone. I think I've won. I'm not paying attention. But two moments from plunging her own blade into her neck, a strip of black rushes across the ground to meet me, and too lost in the momentum of my forward attack, I cannot back away in time.

I gasp out loud at the feeling of losing control of my body, of the shadow encompassing, possessing mine. The feel of it crawls over my sin, sinks past muscle, flesh, to my nerves and bones. I can't move. Can't move. Can't move, can't move, can't move. But I'm moving when he does, two steps away from his partner, hands down to my sides, fingers releasing the smooth metal hilt, I am defenseless.

She's grinning at me, and I want to punch her so hard in the nose, her bones smash into her brain. She sheaths both her swords as I stand motionlessly, captured by his shadow. Then she distances herself, lifts her hands and faces me with them stretched out like an oval, her thumbs touching at the bottom, and her index fingers at the top, her other fingers perked in the air. She peers at me through the hole they make, and I cannot get away. I feel it when her soul enters my body. I watch her body collapse.

I grit my teeth, close my eyes, fighting for control. But she's slowly taking over. I have to stop her. Must keep her from having me. Must win. Keep control. I have no control.

I awaken the Mangekyo Sharingan.

* * *

><p>It was her mistake to enter the contorted realm in my mind, and I'm not willing to forgive her for it. This world bleeds only three colors: red, black, and white. We've been deposited in a wide, empty field, where the trees surrounding us are both alive and dead, where the air is so still, a single movement feels like I'm struggling through the atmosphere like it's water. I hate swimming.<p>

She's right in front of me, but I might as well not be here. My world has frightened her, and she's too busy frantically looking around, as if an escape might be planted clearly before her. For all her arrogance, she has never even seen true terror. Horror is nothing but a scary child's tale. Ghosts, demons… I can show her both.

"We have a visitor," I declare, pacing easily around her. Her eyes fall on me, wide and white. I pause, stare at her with my own. My voice echoes like the ring of metal. "Why don't we show her some hospitality?"

The surface of the earth ripples once, and then explodes to my right, twice to my left, in front of me—a series of popping as the ground breaks and clawed hands reach for the sky. Her scream resounds, but before she can turn, a tentacle slashes through the dirt, coils around her calf, and yanks her onto her back. She shrieks again, attempting to scuttle backwards, but my companions are emerging. A large man covered in bright, red armor. A beautiful woman with long blonde hair. A peculiar-looking male with a reddish-purple ponytail and facial hair the same color. A tall, willowy boy with long, oily black hair. A dark-skinned girl with short blue locks. A young man, blonde hair ruffled in the not-wind, blue eyes glowing iridescent like the stone around my neck.

She's screaming so loud, my ears are ringing, trying to crawl away from the ghosts stumbling toward her, fingers groping, eyes bulging, mouths gaping. The smell of rotting flesh, the sound of bones cracking as they trip over each other, moving for her fasters and faster. She screams, tries to run.

But I don't let her.

Not until they have a chance to claw at her legs and crawl up her torso, stroking her face bloody with razor fingers. She's lost her scream, and can only whimper and cry. I smile. I've crushed her.

We fall out of my mind blindly, she to her own body, cradled preciously in the arms of her teammate, and me to my knees. My right eye throbs, and I clutch my socket as if the press of my palm can ease the extraordinary pain that accompanies the Mangekyo Sharingan. I raise my head just enough to watch them, panting hard through the pulsing agony coursing in my eye. He's holding her trembling mass, and from the way he shakes her, whispers furiously, there's no way she's still coherent. His eyes flash to mine, beautifully black eyes like budding rose flowers, not yet in bloom. If roses could be black.

I stand as soon as he rises, but my legs shake. His eyes narrow. He's watching me. There's no way he can't see it. I am weak. He can take me out.

My vision blurs as he approaches, the world spins as I collapse to all fours and retch what little is in my stomach. When there is none left to throw up, my body continues to convulse in dry heaves, and I cannot stop, even when he touches my back gently. There are more people around me, and they're talking, then shouting. Even then, when I finally stop and fall into the boy's arms, I do not understand what they're saying.

Thankfully, I don't pass out this time—I've been doing too much of that lately. I am conscious, trembling and conscious, as someone scoops me up like I'm a child and carries me away. Everything about him is sure and steady, from the even thud of every footstep to the drumming of his heart near my ear. He smells like sun and grass and wood, and his muscle and skin feel like ropes of soft, supple leather holding me up.

I stay awake the entire time, as he journeys through the streets, enters a dark and quiet building, and places me gently upon cushion so soft I sigh. It's gentler than grass or hay or wool or even cotton. Soft and cool, like a bed of water. I try blinking open my eyes, but I still can't see. No, I can almost see. There is light, as broken as it is, and I assume it must be both blood and tears that blind me. Too bad he must see me like this. I kind of liked the feel of him.

I know it's him. Just because I know.

His hands are kind as he cleans my face, and slowly, through the fog, I can make out his black hair pulled back tight and his bronze skin full of sunlight, and those rose-black eyes that make no sense, because roses aren't black.

I don't know why his touch is so tender, but I relish the kiss of his fingertips and the caress of his palm while the sweet dream lasts. This is such a peculiar, backwards village, and yet it maintains such impossible power in our warring world, their backwardness might be on to something.

I stay awake the whole time, with no sense of actual time anyway, and really, I fade in and out more than anything. Between the boy and my nightmares, I'm covered in sweat and water every moment, and I take refuge in every moment his hands bring me peace and relief. Without him there, to draw me out of the realm in my mind, I would be lost in a delirious state so heavy, I would not find my way back.

I hate swimming.

The last time my nightmares fade, I know I'm really awake, because my eyes can see and my heart isn't in flames. He stands at the table beside the bed, and the smells of medicine and broth made of mushrooms, ginger, and leeks, registers before the sight of it does. He brings a spoonful to my lips, and I accept it gratefully without reluctance. My stomach is painfully empty, and it would be senseless to poison me by now.

"You've only been out about an hour," he tells me, and I'm grateful I don't have to ask, because I don't want to stop eating the soup he's feeding me. "You nearly killed Inoka."

I blink up at him. The soup is blissfully hot down my throat.

"She isn't particularly strong," he comments, voice betraying no emotion. "But still, you did it without blinking. I've heard about those eyes of yours, but I've never seen them. My dad was right. They're eerily beautiful."

I like his voice.

"Roses," I say, just as his spoon grazes my lips.

He looks at me. I look back. His resolve trembles, trembles his fingers, trembles his spoon by my lips. I catch it between my teeth and drink. He keeps watching me. We share a moment.

Father would not approve.

"I'm Shika," he tells me, with another spoonful of broth. I nod, drink. "I already know you. Madara Uchiha."

"I already know you, too," I tell him, my whispers creating ripples in the little pool of soup in the spoon. "Shika, Shika, son of the sixth Hokage. You're smart."

"Not so much," he disagrees, but I've gotten him to smile, and it's an awkward smile, and I want to see it again.

"You're modest," I note, out loud, and I'm right. He smiles his awkward smile. Only one side of his lip turned up, corners of his eyes wrinkling.

"Honest," he amends, and he sits beside me on the bed, making himself more comfortable. "My father wants to test you more, I think. That show with the Sharingan was…intriguing."

Intriguing. Not impressive.

"I don't use it a lot," I admit. It's sad; there isn't much soup left in the bowl.

"Good," he murmurs, so soft it makes me warm.

I don't want to ask him not to leave me alone while I recover to full stamina, but I don't have to, because he settles down at a desk in the same room once I'm finished eating. He's working on something, a contraption or a weapon; I can't see. But he's quiet, and I can still smell him, even when I turn and inhale deeply from the pillow. Everything smells like him, and I can fade into a sleep as sweet and peaceful as the streets of Konoha.

I do not dream much, but I catch glimpses of my brothers' shadows in the corners of the room when my vision is fogged with half-sleep. My sister lingers by the window. My parents…they drift over me on silvery clouds. I miss them.

I remember the day I decided that I was going to follow through with becoming a shinobi. It was rainy, just rainy. Nothing particularly special about it. But I can recall my mother, the look of pure horror in her eyes. It was a look she contained skillfully as a shinobi, but her eyes always betrayed her. Like the way she never cried, but I could always see the sorrow in her rings of jade green on days gloomier than most. I could see it, when I told her…

"I want to fight like everyone else," I said, my voice gentle yet firm. She did not look at me, but the herbs she'd been chopping now lay neglected at her fingertips. Before she could disagree, I explained, "Koto became a shinobi when he was only thirteen, and Tsuna did when she was young, too…"

"What about Naru and Suke?" she murmured, and I could hear her heart breaking as I sighed.

"They were an exception," I reminded her, but I stay off the topic. The subject of her sickly, fragile son always conjures that pained expression. "But I've waited long enough. I'm the past the age you were when you became a kunoichi."

"It was a different time then," she argued, and sliced down forcefully with her knife. The thud of the blade against the wooden board made me wince. "We weren't at war, and we weren't _here_."

I had cast my gaze worriedly around the spacious kitchen at her words, even though my father had been assured we were given the utmost privacy on our hall, as though it were our own home, not a part of the rest of the manor. Still, in Ame, it seemed there were ears everywhere. It's why Tsuna rarely spoke when I saw her; she warned me once that one could never tell who was listening. If Lord Pain heard my mother insinuate such a thing… Then again, there was no doubt he already knew. Had known. Pain knew everything.

"But I don't want to let you and father down…" I told her, leaving my seat to pace the floor. "I know that you want me safe, but I can't just stay cooped up in here forever. I'm an Uchiha, not a coward!"

That's when she turned. Looked over her shoulder and met my gaze with one so forlorn and agonized, it made me want to abandon all my decisions and stay there in her nest forever.

"Running to death does not make you brave, Madara."

Shika wakes me with a simple touch to my cheek, and when I open my eyes, he's staring down at me with rosy eyes. When he nods, I sigh and sit up, swing my legs to the floor. The room doesn't spin and my head doesn't throb. My eyes are fine now. I haven't abused them enough for the effects of the Mangekyo to bother me for long.

He leads me out of the house, and he doesn't act like I'm about to run away. He doesn't hover or crowd, and we aren't joined by an escort or anything else that makes it obvious I'm an enemy to Konoha. Then again, my headband makes that clear. They've let me keep it for now, out of all the things they confiscated from me, and it gleams on my forehead proudly. I glance at Shika.

"So, how old are _you_?" I ask, and when his responding gaze is mildly surprised, I raise both my eyebrows. "Just probing."

"Nineteen," he says, and I nod absently as I store the information.

"What rank are you?" I inquire, studying his vest out of the corner of my eye. I can never tell the chunin from the jonin outfit.

"Jonin," he answers, "But only because of the war. The villages have to push some of their youngest to the top earlier than they used to. You must be high up, Uchiha and all."

"Genin," I correct him, grinning. He blinks at me and I shrug. "My oldest siblings are at the top, but I was kept from joining the ranks until a couple years ago. It's difficult for us to move people up ranks officially, but we're still given high level missions. The biggest differences are the information you're allowed, your authority over smaller rankings, and how many missions you're expected to fulfill."

We keep walking, through the warm streets, beneath the warm sun I keep trying to look at, but can't, since it just hurts my eyes. Too brilliant, I guess. I can feel my skin sizzling, too, and when I look down at my arms, I'm right. I'm a deep, raw pink, an ugly color, and I'm pretty sure my shoulders are starting to blister.

"You'll grow a tolerance to the sun," he says, watching me. "Plenty of people in Konoha are pale. You just aren't used to it."

"Both my parents are pale," I respond absently, placing my hand on my worst shoulder and activating a basic healing jutsu. He's still watching me; I guess I shouldn't be showing him everything I can do. Oh well. "All my siblings learned some medicinal skills from my mom. I'm just not very good at it. But burns are an Uchiha's specialty."

"It is rather ironic," he agrees, with another awkward smile. We stare at each other. I wish he could meet my mom.

* * *

><p>"You know everything I do about the Sharingan," I say slowly, again, for the fourth time. "The Uchiha helped found Konoha. You know just as much as I do."<p>

"The Uchihas kept their secrets well," the elderly man in front of me says evenly. More people circle the chair I've been shackled to. The room is dark, candles flicker by the walls, and the shadows grope at the ninja's feet. I hope they drag them to Hell. My Hell, where the rain burns your face until it peels. "We just want you to help us."

"Why the hell would I help you?" I glare at him. He pauses, eyes on me. He's kind of scary-looking, actually, with all his scars, and something awful in his gaze.

"Because I will rip your eyes right out of your pretty little head," he answers, voice quiet and soft, and I believe him. I bet he'd love nothing more. "You used a type of Sharingan we've never seen before. We just want to know what it is."

"Your guess is as good as mine," I snap, squirming uncomfortable. I'd hoped they'd assume it was simply the Mangekyo. Which it technically is. I have a sudden urge to see my father. I need to get out of here.

"Really, now?" he sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Really."

"And why should I believe you?"

I glare at him.

"Look, Madara, we can force answers out of you," he warns, approaching me with a powerful, quick stride. I can see the spark of dark metal in his hand. He lowers his eyes to my level, and offers the blade as an example. "I'm not afraid to hurt a child."

"And I'm not afraid of pain," I answer without hesitation. I mean it. Whatever he does can't be worse than the Sharingan. I smile sweetly. "But I have a better idea."

I have him captured in my Sharingan before he can blink. I'm an idiot for using it twice in one day, but I'm beginning not to care. Maybe I can destroy my eyes before they can take them.

We're in the deepest cavern of my mind-world now, far enough where no light can reach. A chamber of soft flickering edges and a pool of shadows below our feet and above our heads. I face him, he who is chained in the center of the room, struggling though he must know I control all that transpires here, with naught but my thought. There is a stirring behind me, warm breath on my neck, and a deep growl that purrs from the back of the monster's throat. The image of the Jinchuuriki sacrifices before me haunt my mind as the creature awakens and comes to peer out from the thick bars that contain it. I know they aren't actually bars, though. They are physical manifestations of my imagination's eye. All that keeps this beast controlled is me.

"You—" he must be able to see it now, because he goes limp and gapes at the air above me, where its eyes leer from its cage. "You're a—"

"Jinchuuriki," I finished, tongue burning at the word. "The very last of 'em."

I know I shouldn't be telling him this. Nobody knows Ame holds such a weapon in its hands. If the other villages knew, they'd seek me out in ever manner available. I'll have to make sure I really crush his mind, until sensible thought does not exist for him.

It's nice to see his fear, though, I admit. No one has ever visited this place save for myself, and I can feel the demon tremble in anticipation and pleasure. I tilt my head, watching my interrogator. There's no need for him to know I have no idea how to channel its power or chakra, that I've not once released its strength.

This demon and I, we have a peculiar relationship. Not quite like a parasite and host, but a mutual partnership more than anything. It lies in silence, leaves me to myself, and I don't bother it either. Sometimes, when I'm too far gone in my nightmares and misery, I come here and it consoles me. Manipulating my weaknesses, perhaps, but I've grown fond of its company still.

"You bring me company," it breaths, sucking in a sigh, and breathing out my name huskily, "Madara."

"He wanted to know about our Sharingan," I say, leaning back against one of the bars. I feel its chakra coil loosely around my torso, slithering in circles on my arms and legs. The man's expression, I can't tell, is either disgust or fear or both.

"Curiosity does not become the human race," the demon says, chakra pulsing in a simmering fury.

"They have us hostage here," I tell it, and its coils tighten and loosen, tighten and loosen, squeezing just hard enough to make my heart race.

"I have been watching, little one," it assures me with another grumbling purr. "I have seen this village many times, and I can feel your distress in being here. Do you require my power, little Madara?"

"I just don't want them to take my Sharingan," I whisper, bowing my head, in a true moment of desperation and fear. It snarls, a throaty, angry growl, and its chakra falls over me like a blanket, lashes out at the man. He screams, in surprise, pain, and terror.

"You dare to threaten the eyes of Madara Uchiha?" it roars, thunderous as it strikes out again, lightning quick. I feel it rising behind me. "Do you know, selfish human, _what it is_ to look into the eyes of this girl? It is to look into the eyes of the Ten-Tailed Demon!"

This time, my eyes don't bleed, and as I watch them take the man, writhing and screaming, from the room, I sigh in pleasure at the demon still bubbling inside me. I can hear its purring growl, smell the heat of its breath, feel its bristled chakra spiking my veins with a euphoric high.

No one comes to take the interrogator's place.

My Sharingan is already deactivated, so it's safe to look around, a pleasant smile on my mouth while a darker one lurks in my eyes. Black now. Pupil-less, colorless, fathomless.

Finally, it is Kakashi Hatake who steps forward. I don't even blink, just stare. I am unsure of him, even when the monster sighs in contentment and settles back into slumber. A part of me wants to trust Kakashi, and I know it would be easy to find comfort in his friendship—but we're still enemies. He doesn't address me, though. In fact, he stands in front of me, and turns his back.

"We're wasting our time," he says firmly, before gesturing to the doorway, where the screams still echo from the hall. "And our men. This girl isn't going to show us anything. The only people who see her power end up in agony and terror. Will anybody volunteer to step forward next? Anyone? No?"

"Stop it, Kakashi," one man says, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. "We've found other ways to make people like her talk. Her teammate?"

My heart stops, and it must show on my face for a moment, because there's a rustling, and the man with the crossed arms looks so smug… No, no, no. They're bluffing. There's no way they could have found Ryu. He's too fast, too strong. I can't show emotion, or it'll give them a clue to go search for an Ame shinobi nearby.

"Don't try to look brave, princess," he chuckles, and I flinch upon hearing my title, even if he doesn't know. It sounds silly now. "We've already got him. You don't have to pretend anymore."

"Kiba, stop it," Kakashi says lowly, stepping forward, blocking him from my view. I stare at his back, feeling…lifeless.

I have to get us out of here.

* * *

><p>I assume they'll throw me in a cell and lock me away, but I guess they've decided on their own original strategy. Smart thinking. I end up back at the Nara household, my guards doubled, and I'm left to my own room, pondering how I'll escape, find Ryu, and get us both out of Konoha. I sigh, huddle in the corner with my arms wrapped around my legs. I don't care if they're watching me and I look pathetic. They've learned a lesson from underestimating me before.<p>

It's odd enough, that I've never dealt with it before, because I've never been taken captive before. Where I come from, everyone already knows what's inside me and what it can do. Me? I'm not all that formidable. It's only the mangled mess of my mind that's worth fearing, and it's as much my enemy as it is anyone else's.

Still, Konoha doesn't really know, and probably won't for a few weeks, because it'll take at least a month or so for their minds to return to them. That's the one thing that kind of makes my Sharingan more special even than my father's. It takes a serious toll on the mind. If Inoka and the other man don't die of it, it will take them a long time to come out of their crazed and delirious state. Even longer to recover completely, if at all. I know for a fact. Pain had it tested and confirmed.

I can still feel his smooth, cold fingers as he stroked my face and hair proudly, the taste in my mouth so sweet my stomach churned. The screaming men falling in tortured defeat, my eyes streaming blood, his soft whispers pressed to my ear. A cold white room spattered with red. They dragged them in and out, out and in, and the gentle, voice low, urged me to complete one mind jutsu after another. No matter how I cried or whimpered, no matter how I begged for it to end.

But no, he pushed me to continue, until I could no longer stand, no longer even open my eyes. He forced me to break their minds, have them hopelessly destroyed, as he petted me and told me pretty things. I was his favorite, he said.

_My precious, beautiful girl. No harm will ever come to you, my dear. My Sharingan Princess. You will be safe as long as I exist. My stunning flower… I love you._

I want to wipe away the salty pearls rolling from my tear ducts, but it won't fix anything if I do, so what's the point? I let them sting my cheeks and drip cold onto my arms.

But fingers, not mine, are wiping them away suddenly, skin warming and comforting mine. I stare up at him, wide-eyed, and I am both surprised and calmed by the lack of sympathy in his eyes. His hands work methodically, and he doesn't meet my gaze until he's finished. When he does, my face is already flushed, my heart thumping hard.

"That won't do you any good," he says, hands still warm around my face. I think he hesitates, but it could just be the tilt of his head. "But you can. If you want."

And I do. I really do want nothing more than to find refuge in arms stronger than mine. To curl up and cry and not worry about anything. But I avert my gaze.

"I _want_," I stress, shifting a little before I sigh, "to see my teammate."

He sighs, too, rocking back on his heels and taking his hands from my cheeks. I want to mourn the loss of his touch, but I can barely look at him. I know I'm putting him in a corner, but for a moment, I don't care. For a moment, I'm glad. And then I feel awful.

"That's something I can't pull of," he says slowly and quietly. I wonder why he sounds so guilty. "Having the two of you together is too much of a risk. You're both too clever."

I can feel the despair on my face like a shadow.

"But…at least I can tell you he's fine," he tells me, almost rushed, but dragged by the reluctance of turning his back to his own village. "My father has him in a heavily guarded cell, but has demanded that no harm comes to him while he contemplates everything that's happening."

"Why is your father so generous?" I ask, eyes narrowing at him darkly. He breathes out long and low.

"I think he's swayed by personal bias in this matter particularly," he admits, wrinkling his nose and rubbing his neck. "To be honest, I think everyone does, whether that's good or bad."

"It's either been nostalgia or hostility," I confirm with a short nod. He stares at me. "I guess everywhere else, it'd just be hostility."

"I don't treat you with either of those things," he murmurs, and I can tell he regrets the words. They aren't professional. They aren't right. He watches me.

"No, you haven't," I agree quietly. I want to stare at the ground, but his rosebud gaze is as hypnotic as the Sharingan. I want to ask why. Even if I already know, I want to hear him say it.

"Shika," a soft leathery voice at the doorway. He lifts his gaze to his father as I snap mine to the wooden floor. "The Elders won't think kindly of you keeping her company. Tensions are already high."

"The Elders don't think kindly of anything," Shika responds, voice calm and steady, his eyes as passive as petals. "Tensions will peak regardless of my actions."

"So you would ignore them rather than heed them?" the Hokage scoffs, stepping inside the plain, empty room. Shika shrugs, expression unfazed.

"Someone in this village should remain sane," is his answer. His father smiles a smile worn by time.

"You cannot be sane and responsible at the same time?" he challenges, and this time, I catch Shika's quirky smile.

"You're the Hokage," he taunts, swaying easily on his heels. "You know the answer to that one."

"As well as I know my name," he chuckles, but his laugh is like a breath of wind. He turns to me. "What do you think, Madara? Can one be both sane and responsible?"

I pause at the question, and the trick inside it. But his eyes welcome my answer, and Shika is crouched just in front of me. I fiddle with a piece of fraying thread on my shirt.

"I don't think any of us remain sane," I murmur, almost to my own ears, which drink up my words eagerly for the truth in them. "No matter what."

I try taking a look at their faces. Shika has turned his gaze away from me, to the floor. The Hokage is lost in his own thoughts, nodding silently to himself. Whatever pride of mine that's left is soothed within me. A good answer.

"The life of a shinobi certainly wears on our abilities to function rationally," he says quietly, and we let the silence of trauma, betrayal, and death speak its words between us. He nods again. "And any man who remains unaffected by such a life was never sane to begin with."

We all stare at each other. Shikamaru, the Sixth Hokage, sighs and bows his head to the window.

"This war has lasted far too long."

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you guys are liking this story so far. I've gotten a few comments that Madara's thought process is confusing or that the style of the story is extremely different from Amongst Hell Are Angels (almost as though it isn't as well-written). I just wanted to clear that the style for this story is intentional and was inspired by books like The Stranger (Albert Camus) and As I Lay Dying (William Faulkner). If you've never read either of the books, you might not understand, but Madara's mind isn't exactly...normal. You'll see this progression in future chapters, and I hope you stick around long enough to get why this story is written so differently from AHAA. :) <strong>

**AnimeCountDown **


	5. The Best View

The Hokage wishes to make a deal with me, but it is an official business matter that does not concern or involve the lower class. He sends Shika out, but before the younger boy leaves, he leans across the space between us to brush his lips along my ear, his hand skirting my throat and catching on my hair. Despite the pounding of my blood, I hear his voice as fine as silk.

"Don't let go just yet," quick and faint, so his father, just a few feet away, won't hear. He pauses, breathes once, a breath cool and fresh in my locks. "Just wait for me."

His lips linger as he turns his head just barely, and I sigh at the faint ghost of a maybe-kiss. He pulls back from me, his gaze, unchanged from before, meets mine just a second before he turns away and strides from the room. As he slides the door closed, I wonder if he was waiting for me to turn my head, too.

"I won't ask you what he said," Shikamaru breaks the quiet afterglow. I tilt my head and watch him warily. "But I will ask of you to tell me your own thoughts of my son."

"Why?" I question. "What is my opinion to the ruler of the realm of sunlight?"

"Your opinion," he sighs, kneeling in front of me, "is that of a pretty young girl's, to a father who is concerned about how she—or any female—might see his only child. He does not take to women often."

I open my mouth.

But I have no idea what to say. My thoughts rarely sound coherent in my head, let alone from my tongue. I stammer, hoping he'll let it just drop, but he waits patiently for me to manage my next words.

"He's different?" It's true, but I say it as a question. He raises an eyebrow, but motions for me to continue. I feel my face contort in pain. "I feel comfortable with him… I just. It's like we already know each other."

"And I will ask another favor," he says quietly. I nod. "For your own benefit as well as mine, might you keep that to yourself for now? Hidden?"

I blink at him.

"Who was I going to tell?" I ask. He smiles softly.

"You are a master of breaking the prying fingers that try to open your mind," he explains, and it dons on me what he means. "In the future, this is something you should put far from their reach."

"I was kind of planning on keeping everything to myself," I say slowly, not sure if such a thing will please the Hokage. He nods, dismissing my small worries.

"I understand," he says, and there's a moment before he suddenly says, "I want to let your teammate go."

I start from my place on the floor. I must be mistaken, to think I could hear such kind words. He holds up a hand, when my smile breaks across my face, and I pause.

"I am sincere when I say I have every intention of releasing him so he may return to Ame," he continues, and I lean back against the wall. "But you cannot return with him."

"Of course," I scoff, tilting my head backward. "I suppose it was a foolish glimmer of a hope to assume anything different."

"Madara, understand I am torn," he sighs, but I turn from him toward the wall. Why bother listening to a man of the enemy. "I was fond of your mother, truly. I am doing what I can to both honor her and do what is best for my village."

"Why honor a rogue?" I growl, hating myself for saying even that. I need to plan my escape, not waste my time with this nonsense. For such a smart man, he is rather foolish.

"Because an old friend of mine believed in more than the harsh lines of reality," the Hokage answers, and if not for the pain and wisdom supporting his words, I might not have turned my head. "He was a symbol of hope, courage, kindness, and mostly, forgiveness. Many of us here would not know those things if it had not been for him."

"And where is he now?" I hiss. Nothing changes in his eyes at my cruel words.

"He is in our hearts," he tells me, voice firm and low. "And he is in me. I stand where he should have always stood, and I act as the Hokage he would have been. That is why I honor your mother, the woman he loved to no end. The woman he died trying to bring back home."

The blood drains from me, and I am abruptly cold, a chill passing through my veins. I wish for words, but even as my lips tremble, my tongue is still. Could such a man possible exist? A man my mother had rejected? His bead-like eyes do not whisper of lies, but I do not want to believe such a tale.

"My mother never spoke of him," I gulp, averting my eyes. I shift to hide any trembling. "I don't know who you're talking about."

"No," he replies, voice dry and cool. "I suppose she would have wanted to forget, or perhaps not burden her children with a past she longed for and choices she regretted…or perhaps she somehow moved on."

I still do not look at him. All I can see is the perpetual sorrow that haunted my mother's eyes, her adamant refusal to begin a true life in Ame, the moments when she became so lost in thought, not even yelling could rouse her. Could this man be why? No…not a single man…

"She gave you his necklace," he suddenly says. I jerk upright, questioning, but he nods, to the jewel at my throat. "She never told you where she got it?"

"I'd always assumed it'd been hers," I mutter, grabbing at the stone. "She told me it was my keepsake."

"It was Naruto Uzumaki's," the Hokage breathes, a terrible weakness in his proud words. "It was given to him by Tsunade, my predecessor. A necklace passed through a series of boys with dreams unfulfilled of becoming Hokage. And now it rests around your neck."

Naruto. Tsunade.

Naru. Tsuna.

Was there a Koto, too? And a Suke? Who were they?

Who was Madara?

"Why are you telling me this?" I scream, pressing my palms to my ears. My Sharingan stirs; I clench my eyes shut. "Get out! Leave me! Go! No more, no more!"

I don't know when my screams become pleading whimpers, but when I lift my head through a fog of tears, he's gone.

* * *

><p>She had spoken of Kakashi, had not kept him or Shikamaru or some others from her stories…from me. If this Naruto had been so important, why…how had she kept him secret? Was the story too terrible to tell? Or was there a reason too great for me to fathom?<p>

And now I burn with a need and desire to know all my siblings' namesakes…mine particularly. What name did she give the runt of the bunch, the most useless and terrible of her children?

The one they called princess in whispers, the one Lord Pain favored. The one so sick she could sometimes barely see or touch her. My memories of her pushing from me, of bursting into tears at the sight of me, are as vivid as Shikamaru's still-fresh words. But why would she not? I'm the one born half-dead, they say. Born with blood flooding my eyes, they say. Born in the darkest hour of Hell, they say. Born a demon-bearer. Maybe I cannot…or should not blame her. Could I love such a wretched being as a Jinchuuriki?

No. Only a person as wretched as Pain could claim such a thing.

I cannot imagine how I will escape this time, and the heavy weight of my failure sinks my heart and stomach. It's a type of bitter hopelessness that pounds aches into my temple and makes every move strained and exhausting. There is nobody to turn to for help now, not now. I've lost all my chances, and have nothing left to do but curl into a ball below my only window, close my eyes, and drift into my inner world.

The demon is waiting for me, great eyes looming in the darkness of the cage, his breath hot on my face as he lifts his muzzle to the bars.

"We are stuck here," I groan, leaning against the smooth metal. It quivers as the demon shudders with fury. "I am sorry. I have failed us."

"Do not look for the face of defeat when your heart still beats, little one," he grumbles, claws clicking against a damp stone floor. "You are an Uchiha, and even greater, my host. Do you seek my power to aid you?"

I falter, finger twitching to open the gate, knowing of the raw, unstoppable power that will flood through me if I do. The last time I used the demon's power, though… I curl my arm back to my sides.

"No," I sigh, the decision making me weary, "I need to finish this on my own. Plus, if we go too crazy, we might hurt Ryu on accident."

"Only practice can make harnessing my chakra easier, Madara," the demon warns, but he settles back in his bed of shadows. I plop down as well.

"I know," I admit, tilting my head in thought. "Lord Pain would want me to, I suppose."

"Do not address him as lord in my chamber," he snarls, walls quaking around us. I gaze at him without blinking. "That man does not know his limitations."

"It is because of him you exist," I point out, but he growls still, refusing to consent loyalty. I smile weakly. "I wonder what he'd think, of his precious ultimate weapon wishing him dead. How ironic."

"To harness a demon's chakra must come from an offering of shared power," he lectures, even though I have heard his qualms many times over. His rage boils over like foam, red hot and popping. "He steals it as though it is not my own. Men have made such insolent mistakes before concerning we tailed demons. But he believes me to share the likeness of my brothers. I will not be as easily contained as they."

I giggle despite his roars. My voice peeks through his like the chirp of a flute within a storm.

"You seem to like it in here," I point out. "I mean, I've heard the Nine-Tailed Fox's Jinchuuriki needed a seal to contain his demon. You've never taken over me like that."

My words are teasing, but he stares down at me with something strange in his wide eyes. He lowers his face to the floor, peering at me through the bars. Though we are as eye level as possible, his monstrous form cannot be ignored. He blows a breath at me with a flare of nostrils.

"You encountered the legend of the Kyuubi's Jinchuuriki," he says lowly, and he almost sounds a little curious. I tilt my head questioningly. "The soul that still lingers in that pendant of yours. The fox Jinchuuriki. Naruto Uzumaki."

I sway with dizziness, even sitting down. He leans closer, as much as the bars allow..

"You did not know they were one and the same," he notes, almost a question, but not quite. But my mind is on more pressing matters than his tone, or even his words. I am so numb, I don't know where my mind is. But it is far from here.

The man who loved my mother…was a Jinchuuriki.

"Which one is he, I wonder?" I sigh, stretched out on my back in the Nara household. The house is silent and wrapped in soft, silvery moonlight, but I know if I so much as crack open my door, I'll be attacked.

I turn my mind's eye to my knowledge of the Jinchuuriki souls resting, tormented and angry, somewhere inside me. Their ghosts transferred into me with the Ten-Tailed Demon's omniscient recollection of all the lives of the other nine demons that had given him existence. Somehow, the Jinchuurikis ended up inside me as well. I've never looked too closely at their faces, always contorted unnaturally by death and grief. But they haunt my dreams and even my jutsu often enough I can recall some of the most potent ones.

Maybe the robust, stalky man with the armor. I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. A character of ultimate kindness and forgiveness… The thin, pale boy with long black hair maybe? He might have looked like father, just a little, with the color of life in him. He's maybe the most passive-faced. But no. Not him. I just know it isn't.

"Deep in thought?"

I jump up, my heart knocking wildly in surprise. Shika grimaces an apology, but it's gone in a flash, and he's suddenly sitting right by me. His hand finds my cheek again. I melt into the gentle touch.

"I'm sorry my father upset you," he whispers, and while his eyes do not reflect any sympathy, it still pours through me, warm and slow and scented of roses. "He assumed you knew of _him_."

"You must have heard me screaming," I realize, and he nods. His warmth crosses the little air between us. My lower lip trembles. "Naruto Uzumaki… No, I'd never heard the name before… But… I'm fairly certain one of my brothers was named after him… He was a Jinchuuriki?"

"Yes…" he pauses, bows his head toward mine, voice hushed low. "How'd you figure that out?"

I stare at him, fear thudding into my heart.

"He's inside me," I whisper, pressing close to him. His eyes widen, but he doesn't move away from me. "His ghost… I just don't know which one he is."

"You…" His mind is working fast, and his eyes snap open wide when he knows. His words are but a breath. "You're a Jinchuuriki."

"You _are_ smart," I whisper, turning my head down. It is all I can think to say.

It was a mistake. I should've never… No one is allowed to know. Nobody out of Ame… I have ruined everything. I have betrayed my village. Betrayed Lord Pain. Now nobody will love me.

He shifts, and I cringe, not wanting to lose his company. But my fear is stifled by his firm embrace, holding me hard against him, as though letting me go would end the world itself. I gasp into his shoulder, release my new tears, of both fear and guilt…and relief.

How sweet the air tastes without the chill of my secret.

"That's how you hurt Inoka," he murmurs, to himself, probably. "And Baki…"

"I guess so," I mutter. I can hardly hold myself up, but I don't care. Shika is here for me to lean on. "You're going to lock me away now, right?"

He stiffens, and pulls from me just enough that our eyes meet.

"Madara," he whispers, shaking his head. "I want to help you… but Konoha is my home. I can't let you leave if it means giving Ame a weapon that can destroy the world. I'm sorry."

"I know," is my answer, and after fidgeting, I ask, "Do you hate me?"

Had he anticipated the question? I can't tell, because he only gazes at me with soft black eyes, and takes my jaw in one hand kindly, and brings our mouths together. I can feel him through the kiss, feel his chakra swimming below the surface, rising to twine and twirl with mine. Two harmonious songs, composed carefully from all we are.

It's him. I simply know it's him.

* * *

><p>"We will allow your teammate to go back to Amegakure," Shikamaru says slowly. We're in a warm room that echoes lightly when someone speaks, but that's all I can tell about it. They had me blindfolded before I was escorted out. Blindfolded by Shika. No Sharingan for me. "He'll carry a message of your capture and demands for negotiation if they wish for your return."<p>

My return? But they can't let a Jinchuuriki go to another village. Has Shika not told him?

"You will be allowed only a few moments with him alone before he leaves," the Hokage continues, his voice heavy. "Make sure you know what you wish to say; you won't have long."

I press my lips together. This makes no sense. Forget Jinchuuriki; releasing an Uchiha would be foolish enough. Besides, I could tell Ryu anything I've learned, anything to tell those at home. We could make a plan and—

They aren't planning on letting me go.

Or Ryu.

I cannot hear the Hokage's words. My head spins and I want to collapse. No. I have to help him. I have to get Ryu before… before…

They're yanking me to the door, and I stumble after my escorts blindly. Neither are kind. We leave the room. My boots click on a different kind of wood. This is a hollow, heavy sound, not sharp and clean. Every step, I panic. I panic.

No. No, no, they can't, they won't, will they? I have to be wrong. I misunderstood. That's all I did, missed what the Hokage said, there at the end, when I wasn't listening, yes. No. No, no, no. This can be right. Can't be possible. Can't be true. No. _No._

"_No!_"the scream is so abrupt, my captors flinch away, releasing their grasp for just half a moment. It's all I need.

I dart ahead, hands roped behind me, useless, eyes shut into darkness, useless behind the blindfold. No. Not useless.

"Amaterasu," I whisper, and the black flames whirl ahead of me, catching on the blinding cloth and spreading quickly. I shriek as the flames lick my face and I shake the charred, crumbling bits from my head. They're calling out to me, cursing, chasing. Escape. I need escape.

The wall to my right is full of doors, the one to my left covered in equally spaced windows. Shinobi are gathering ahead, at the end of the hall. My eyes flick to the window, where I see blue, the tops of buildings. We're in the Hokage Tower.

I lurch to my right, twisting my body until my feet land flat on the wall. They strike it and I use all my strength to push off from the wall and propel myself toward the window and the skyline beyond it. The glass shatters around my head, the shards slicing into my skin around my face and neck. For just a moment, I am suspended in air. The sun strikes my eyes and the soft cool breeze cradles me in the warmth of everything that is Konoha. I inhale deep and slow, right from my diaphragm.

And then I am falling.

* * *

><p>The fall is exhilarating.<p>

As terrified as I am, I suddenly cannot, or simply do not, know my fear. Rather, a warm prickling sensation spreads from my heart to my limbs, to my brain, leaves me numb and wide awake, like I am watching my life from my eyes without inhabiting my body. I don't want to accept that this fall will be deadly, or that it means I have entirely, utterly failed.

I can feel the wind, yes, and a chill that accompanies both it and the swiftness of my fall. And I can feel the sun, mysterious and warm on my face, my shoulders. I'll probably get burnt again, but I know it doesn't matter.

The first time I was burned, I think I cried. I can't exactly remember whether or not I did, but I can see my father peering at me with a slight smirk in his eyes. He smiled and tapped my chin up.

_Don't cry, now._ He was always saying things like that. _Don't cry. Stay focused. Keep trying. Be firm. Learn something new. _If not one thing, it was something.

One time in particular is branded somewhere dark and isolated in my mind. Somewhere where it's permanent, but also where I can pretend I'll eventually forget about it. It's somewhere hidden, where I'll never really think about it except in times like these, where my memories rush to my forethought eagerly.

_Remember not to squeeze it too tight. _My father, adjusting my small fingers beneath his around the kunai. _It makes it more difficult to throw._

I nodded, stuck out my tongue, and practiced holding it lightly without dropping it. He watched me closely, as I imitated his graceful motions of drawing the blade, taking a stance, and throwing it at the target. Over and over, I repeated the gestures, with him not saying a word save for a few pieces of advice every now and then. Over and over. I hit the center every time. Over and over.

_Itachi._ It was the rest of father's team. I recognized their faces from my days wandering the halls with my siblings. There was a pretty blonde one and a large man the color of water if it could be murky and blue at the same time. I, personally, liked the tall, goofy man with the mask. It was orange, bold for a shinobi, and he was always making me laugh with his silly antics.

My father demanded I continue, and then strode out across the courtyard to meet them—I had no chance to argue. So I kept practicing, while he spoke with his comrades. I never paid attention to his conversations with them back then. I never cared. I was too focused on never missing a beat, never losing my focus, to even think about it. Rain pattered on the glass paneling that shielded the pretty, flowery courtyard from Ame's cruel climate. It was a steady, simple noise. It helped me concentrate.

A hand on my shoulder interrupted my next throw. My blade dug into the soil. I frowned at it, then at my father looming above me. He wore a smile.

_Koto is home._

I'd heard about Koto. He was my brother. The first-born. My initial reaction was shock, wide eyes and parted lips. Shaky hands. I'd wanted to meet Koto all my life. I'd wanted nothing more since I'd known he existed.

I bounced excitedly where I stood and followed my father eagerly out of the courtyard and through the manor. House servants bustled with more fervor than they normally did; their faces looked odd. Swollen with sweat, red with strain, eyes bulging wide in panic. I almost giggled at their expressions.

We entered the grand entrance room—one not as brilliant as Lord Pain's, but I'd not known the difference then. As my father swept gracefully across the stone floor to where a cluster of people crowded the door, I slowed my step, overcome with abrupt, childish worry. What if he hated me? What if he thought I was weak? Yet, the crowd of servants cleared, and with them dispersed my fears.

The boy I'd been expecting did not exist. The Koto who returned was a man, as tall as father, with lean shoulders and a narrow figure. His handsome face was solid, both relaxed and tight, poised with a godly elegance I'd seen and envied in my father and oldest sister. All of his skin was smooth and unmarred—impossible, considering his many years of war. But he stood, perfect in his blood-crusted ANBU armor, his Akatsuki cloak gathered away by a servant. Twin swords swept his shoulder blades like poised, jade wings, and the length of his fine black hair pressed to his face and neck like a lover.

Somehow, his eyes found me.

Past the servants, past my grand father, those cool black eyes found the little girl cowering by the doorway, watching him with large eyes that mirrored his own. I saw everything in that gaze. Everything that I had ever wondered or questioned. Everything that mattered was in those eyes.

_You were successful._ My father. Our father. _Lord Pain has told me he's pleased with you._

The look he gave my father made my heart stop.

And then he strode from the room with all the dignity of the Uchiha.

My dismay was short-lived, though. Later that night, when the night was black with a soft, sprinkling rain, I found my way to my favorite place on the manor roof. I had inherited a bit of my mom's knack for controlling chakra with ease, and could scale the building's walls at a young age. Our house overlooked much of Ame, because the metal bridge-roads steeped into an incline, and we rested on an artificial hilltop. I looked out at Ame with my Sharingan activated, watching every flare of life in the dismal streets below.

He slid onto the roof beside me so quietly, I couldn't have said how long it was he sat there before I realized he was sitting beside me. When I did, I started so badly, I nearly toppled over the edge of the roof. He caught me easily, not even flinching as he hoisted me back up. The strain of his rippling muscles made my young eyes widen. Legs dangling off the roof, I stared at him. He stared back, eyes cool and deep.

_I used to come up here before I left_. His eyes didn't leave mine. _Strange that you found it. _

_Not that strange._ His eyes asked me, so I glanced out at the village. _This is the best view._

_The only view._ He agreed with me. For a moment, we sat in soft, sprinkling quiet. _Do you remember me?_

_No._

He looked at me.

_At all?_

I looked back.

He turned away. His right leg was drawn up to his chest, his left dangling like mine, but a little more stiffly. I clenched the edge of the shingles so they dug into my palms.

_I brought you something._

_Me?_ My surprise was as intense as my flush of pleasure. He nodded and dug into his pocket. From it, he withdrew a string of luminous black pearls, glistening between the darting rain drops. It clinked gently in greeting as he pulled it into my line of sight. It was lovely.

_Do you know what this does?_ I shook my head, wide-eyed. I thought maybe I saw him smile as he took up my arm and began to wrap the beads around my wrist and arm. _It's a powerful weapon you must only use in your most desperate moments._

_A weapon? _I watched his hands. Pale, long fingers, calloused and strong as they worked methodically. _Why would I ever need a weapon?_

_Every Uchiha must have his great defense. Whether he wishes to step into the world of war or not, it will eventually find him. _

_You want to protect me?_ His gaze met mine, a gaze I couldn't read, his hands stilled.

_Of course._ His hands continued, until he fastened the string tight around the notch above my elbow, so it couldn't slide off. Even though he was finished, he didn't remove his hands from my arm or the pearls. _You are my little sister. I want to keep you safe, even when I cannot be here._

_Why?_

_Because I love you._

I feel the warm grip of the pearls constrict snugly around my flesh as I fall, the frigid wind whipping at me mercilessly. My bonds fall from my wrist, and I fold in on my arm, curling tightly into a ball with it pressed firmly to my chest. I near the ground with every faint breath. The pearls emanate a beautiful heat, growing warmer the faster I fall.

_Because I love you._

The pearls erupt along my arm like stars, their brilliant fire swirling to life within each pretty black sphere. Every orb an egg of iridescent orange flames. They burst apart along the soft of my palm, a flicker of flames lashing out from my hand and slashing out through the air. They spiral along my arm, but they don't stop at my elbow. They spin up my arm and flare into absolute radiance. I tighten my hold on the rope of flames, feeling it solidify in my grip. With a shout, I spin and fling the flames into the air, rushing away from me. A vortex of fire, stretching up and spinning back toward me with fierce, snarling fury.

They cradle me, scooping me into their embrace before I hit the ground. They tighten around my palm, my arm, shoulder, latching onto my back, down to my legs and back up my chest, ripping from me something precious that I never knew had a life of its own. It breathes and roars and spreads out behind me with a snap like a whip. They crawl up the back of my neck, clasp around my skull, and fasten into place.

Breathing hard, I open my eyes, stare hard at the ground. I am only a few yards from its surface. I can hear the panicked chorus of those who stand below me. They have never seen such a thing as this.

A woman warrior, clad in armor made of fire and blazing inferno wings.

* * *

><p><strong>I think I lost some followers in my last update, but I'll continue to post for those who are still interested. :) <strong>

**AnimeCountDown**


	6. We're Hungry

Some of them scream. Others can hardly open their mouths. Most of them turn and run. More still face me in courage and defiance, willing me into defeat. I will not stand for it. How dare they raise rebellion to me?

How dare they? How dare they!

_Madara!_

I flinch, cringing at the voice that rings past my defenses, but I do not have much more time to hesitate. I draw my fire-clad arm over my body to deflect the oncoming kunai, discovering the cling of actual steel hiding beneath the flames. Baring my teeth, I open my palm and stretch my arm out toward them. All I have to do is let the energy build inside me, a white hot coil of pure power that swells in my heart. It's as easy as breathing. It requires hardly any effort at all. I release the explosion of fury, and it rains upon Konoha fiercely, a shower of flames that lights the world ablaze.

The voice rings in my mind again, but it is subdued and weak. I push it from me with a shriek, nothing will hinder my power. A deliberate twitch of my newly born wings turns me toward the Hokage Tower. Faces gape at me from the topmost windows. I see the Hokage's grave expression, and a searing strip of agony runs from my heart and through my spine. A roar escapes my lips as I hurl another mass of flames at the Tower. The answering snarl of the fire as it consumes the tower satisfies my hunger enough that I pause to smile. It is beautiful.

"Madara!"

I bare my teeth at the voice tainting my name. My eyes find him below. Shika. The recognition makes me hesitate, the pain in my spine dulling to an ache. He is not angry or afraid. His eyes are wide, glistening with awe. He stretches his arms up to me, gesturing me to come to him. I feel the pull, the longing. All my armor, the pearls, have intensified the draw I have to him. He must feel it too. This burning need fueled by my power, awakened by this hunger.

My wings tuck to my back, and I dip down to the ground, catching myself just before I land. As I lower myself onto my feet, he approaches, not precariously or uncertainly. He comes to me with absolute knowing. That he is mine. And I his.

But he stops a yard from me, flinching. My smile drains, my muscles clenching furiously. He _knows_. Why does he stop? Why does he not come to me?

"I can't touch you, Madara," he says slowly, his dismay deepening the lines of his face. I recoil, but his answer strikes before I can. "The fire. I'll die."

I grit my teeth. Damn it. My exhale brings with it a billow of foggy black smoke.

"You want me to choose between you?" I hiss, the sheer enormity of my voice strangling the air's fragile stillness. Around us, buildings burn. People scream. No one interrupts us. "This is my power, Shika."

"And I'm not asking for it," he assures me, his low tremor like an affectionate stroke. "It's yours to keep, Madara. But while you feed it, there is no room for me."

I contemplate this. He speaks a truth I cannot ignore. Taking in a breath, I lift my fingers to the pearls' origin, where they first lay across my palm. I feel their essence shiver and clink at my touch.

_Madara, no!_

A wild screech peels from my mouth, as I grab my head and swivel, wings snapping frantically. Out of my head, out of my head, out of my head! No! I can't let them take it from me! This is mine! Mine!

"Madara, stop!" I jerk my head up, expecting to see Shika, but I know that voice, and the man who boldly grabs my wrists is blonde, not dark-haired. His strong eyes find me, his hands shaking against me. "Madara, come back. Come back to me."

The flames around me shiver in response, and then begin to sizzle, seeping into my skin, crawling back through my veins to my arm. They wind and spiral backward, the hot steel armor they forged within seconds crumbling to ash as the flames recede. I feel the pearls swallow the fire whole, absorb every bit of them until nothing is left but the string of black spheres wound carefully along my arm. I feel fuzzy, warm, and I collapse into his arms with a soft groan. His arms tighten around me; I can hear them coming. The footsteps of sprinting shinobi. We are doomed.

"Move any closer, and she'll activate it again," he threatens, and I shudder in his arms. A good bluff. They halt their march.

"Shika, obtain her!" I don't know that voice. It's angry.

"Don't even," he warns, enveloping me closer. "You know what will happen if we stay here, don't you?"

"Shika!"

"My loyalties are crossed," he murmurs; he is closer than I realized. His voice is soft below the prevailing chaos. "My power is not at my own will to give."

"Then Ame will take it," he whispers, just above my ear.

_No. I want him to hear me. Do not hurt him. _

"Ryu," I sigh, grabbing his collar. His eyes flash through my daze. "Don't… It's him… I know it. Him."

"I know," he assures me, and I feel one hand leave my body. A jerk. A single drop of blood falls upon my cheek. Another jerk. A pop. An explosion of smoke. And through my fall to nothingness, I hear its roar of fury.

* * *

><p>It's you. You're him. We've been looking for you.<p>

I understand now. It's my first thought as I sit up and look around our camp. It is impressive, considering we left Konoha with nothing; or so I assume. I'm wrapped in a thin sheet of cotton, made warm by my body heat, letting in gasps of cool air through its thin fibers. We are cooped up in a narrow hollow in a ravine wall. The river rushes sweetly a few yards away in the sunlight, and the steep wall of rock at my side casts a cool shadow over the camp. I'm lying on a makeshift bed of padding, which explains how well rested I feel, and the smell of cooked meat brushes my nose tenderly enough to summon a growl from my stomach.

As far as I can tell, I'm currently alone, but the bowl of rice and fish sitting just a foot away reassures me of my safety. I take up the meal and devour it quickly, only taking enough time to chew carefully before swallowing. When I finish, I slip from my cocoon and dart into the sunlight. Aside from the river, I see no movement, so I proceed and crouch by the bedside to fill the bowl with water. My throat is dry and raw, and it takes me five full bowls before my headache begins to retreat.

I squat by the lapping current, squinting my eyes up at the top of the cliff face parallel to the one sheltering the camp. Nope. Nothing. Absolutely isolated. Sighing, I return to the shade and plop back onto the inventive mattress. As I lay there, I finger the pearls around my arm. Subconsciously, I touch my pendant with my other hand.

Who knew Konoha would dig into my mind so much? It ended up revealing far more than I'd ever figured. Naruto Uzumaki. Koto. My parents' past. The Ten-Tailed Demon. Shika.

I roll my head to the side so I can watch the spray of the river as it cascades down the ravine. Shika, Shika, whose eyes are like rosebuds. A small frown tilts my lips. I suppose I miss him already. No surprise there, though. Of course I miss him. He's gone. Or I guess I'm gone, technically. He didn't go anywhere.

But I did. I just don't know where…

The air is warm, the sky clear, so I'm going to guess we're still in the Land of Fire, but there's no telling. We. Well, there's me. Now I just have to find the other one. The second part of "we". But it's too warm, and I don't really feel like getting up. I close my eyes and relax against the cloth; I can feel the ground beneath it. I'll just…fall asleep and pretend like I'm still recovering… He'll come back…sooner…or later…

* * *

><p>It's a beautiful day in Konoha, like it always is. I can't remember a day when the world wasn't as pigmented as this fairy tale collage of vivid green trees, clear aqua skies, bold red house paint, glimmering silver hitai-ate. It all flashes by in a kaleidoscope containing a lifetime of memories. The blinding mirage of places, times, and people makes my thoughts whirl violently until the flashing stops, and it all comes into focus in front of me.<p>

I'm in a large clearing I've never seen before. There's a wide lake and a ring of trees surrounding me. Not far from me, there are people. A young boy in a high-collared blue shirt with fluffy midnight locks framing his face. A girl with an impossibly bright smile and long, thick hair the color of cherry blossom petals. A man with strange silver hair, and a mask covering half his— A man I realize I know. It's Kakashi. Only far younger than the wizened shinobi I'd met a few days ago. I turn my gaze back to the little girl.

Large emerald eyes. Pink hair. Heart-shaped face and pale skin… Her hitai-ate tied like a ribbon in the part of her hair. It can't be her… No… This girl is too happy to be my mother. But even as I stare at her, the name burns through my mind like a familiar embrace.

Sakura.

Before my mind can process it, though, my eyes are moving of their own accord. To the boy. Just like with the child form of my mom, a name runs through me as though I already know it. Know him.

Sasuke.

I flinch at the name. Sasuke. Suke. It can be no coincidence. I cringe, try to turn away, but no, I'm stuck. Trapped in a body that isn't mine. Even as I struggle, I am faced with this perpetual image. This image that cannot possibly be real.

"Madara, wake up."

I open my eyes to find Ryu's already searching mine. We stare at each other, and then I sit up. He moves back as I do, but his eyes don't abandon me. When I realize he's still staring, I flush, bite my lip. But I don't look away.

"You were moaning," he says, voice softer than I'm used to hearing it. His eyes are solid, easy to sink into. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Of course," except I'm breathless at the same time. His sigh is soft. I can feel it on my mouth.

"Do you need water?" he asks. His voice is getting softer. Softer than I'm used to. I swallow, aware my throat is dry again.

"Please," is all I can muster.

I see him reach for his canteen, but his lips meet my mouth before the water does.

He's hot and hard and masculine, a force of raw strength pressing against me. I open my mouth as soon as he asks, and moan softly to him. My heart slams into my ribs as I feel him reach for me. But his hand does not meet my skin.

"Madara."

I open my eyes again, this time with an infuriated huff. Ryu leans over me, eyes passively watching me. And when I pull myself up, he turns without hesitating, away from me. He hands me water without glancing back.

"Here."

I take it without complaining, even though it's a tempting idea, and drink the canteen dry. When I lower it, he's watching me from the corner of his eyes.

"How long?" I ask, handing him the canteen without apologizing. He takes it without complaining.

"Only four days," he answers, just as he stands and walks to the river to fill it back up. I glare at him until he sits back down. He acknowledges my annoyance. "It's fine. Four days, but no one's found us."

"Any word from Ame?" I ask, stroking the pearls on my arm. His eyes flicker in the movement's direction, and he watches me silently until I stop.

"No," he finally says, and though he turns his head away from me, he asks, "What is that thing?"

"I can't say," I hold the string up to peer into each shiny black depth, but I can catch no glimpse of the inferno secretly harbored within. "A gift from my brother a long time ago. That was the first time that happened."

"Do you remember it?" he asks, and when I nod, his lips press together. "You completely lost it. You weren't yourself."

"I know," I sigh, leaning back against the stone. "I couldn't help it, though. I didn't even do anything. It acted on its own. Like it knew I was in danger."

"Well, whatever it is, contain it," he says firmly, his voice hard even though he hasn't raised his voice. I want to smile, but don't. "Because I'm not doing that again."

"Doing what?" I ask, but as my mind flickers, I can remember him grabbing me, my rage making me oblivious to the smell of burning flesh that's now potent in my memory. I look at his hands. Bandaged. White bled through. "_Ryu_… No, let me see."

I reach for him without thinking, and have to hide my surprise when he lets me take his hands in mine. My pull turns him in my direction, and I take my time gingerly unwrapping the cloth. When I've removed it all, a blackened mess of burnt, broken skin, blood seeping onto my hands from his, lays in my hold. The smell has faded, but the early signs of heavy scarring make my face pale. I don't want to say it, don't want to tell him. I take a breath and summon my chakra.

As soon as my chakra reaches into his hands, I know the damage is irreparable. It's festered too much, scabbed over and scarred. There's no infection, and my efforts stitch some of the cracks back together and offer him relief from the pain, but… Maybe if I'd gotten to him sooner…but without a seriously advanced medic, I can hardly make a dent in fixing what I've done. My vision blurs as I grit my teeth until they squeak.

"Madara," he says, so softly, I almost expect I'm dreaming again. But when he raises one of his mangled hands to wipe at my tears, I know I am not asleep. I jerk my head away and shake it determinedly. "Madara, it's fine."

"No," I argue, grabbing his hands again and forcing the jutsu to work even harder, mending tissue and muscle and blood. He gasps, and I can't tell if it's out of pain or relief, but my chakra is hardly helping. I break off in a sob, my technique dying. "We need to get to Ame. My mother can fix this."

"Madara, calm down," he hushes, taking my face in both hands. The skin of them is both raw and hardened, smoothed over with blisters and rough with crust and dried blood. Somehow, his eyes find me. "It's. Fine."

"But your hands…" I whisper, shutting my eyes around my tears. I have no right to cry.

"But you are safe," he says, urgently enough I must look at him again. "As long as you are protected, that is all that matters. You are precious to Lord Pain. Shinobi make sacrifices. To keep you alive and well, my hands are a small one."

I close my eyes again. Lord Pain. I am precious because I am a Jinchuuriki. Because I am a weapon. Nothing more. And for that, others will lay down their lives. I stare at the ground, pulling back my tears so he'll let go. He finally does, and I know I shouldn't, but I speak again.

"What about me?" I say, not even sure why he's being so strangely kind or if he even cares. "What sacrifices do I make?"

The water rushes like a chorus, and somewhere, I can hear a bird and the rustling of leaves or bushes. A stone clatters from the top of the cliff. Ryu reaches across and lifts my chin with a light tap to my jaw.

"Madara, your sacrifice," he says slowly, "is the greatest of them all."

"Good to see you're awake," he interrupts from the edge of our hollowed shelter. My head jerks up so fast, it slams against the rock wall behind me. As my visions clears, and I push past the screaming ache in my skull, Shika comes closer and settles down near us, creating a lopsided triangle. He passes me his typical, blank expression. "I was worried you might be dead."

Ryu is already shifting away from me, busying himself with packing. I gape at the both of them.

"What is _he_ doing here?" I cry, wishing my voice didn't come out so weak.

"Kidnapped and held hostage," Shika replies with a shrug.

"You don't _look_ like you're here against your will," I snap, bristling at his indifference. And Ryu's back.

"Looks can be deceiving, Madara," he says lowly, and I have an urge to reach out and claw at his face. His rosebud eyes.

"Madara, we're taking him back to Ame," Ryu says, wrapping his hands in clean bandages. He throws me a firm glance, a solid glance. A captain's glance. "You said this is him."

"It is," I mumble, pursing my lips at the ground.

"Is what?" Shika sighs, crossing his arms.

"The prodigy Lord Pain is looking for," Ryu explains briefly, tying the knot with a yank of his teeth. "Madara says you're him."

"Why do you figure that?" Shika asks me, eyebrow raised. I shrug.

"Same reason I think your eyes look like roses," I answer. They both look at me for a long moment. Ryu shakes his head and turns back to his task.

"We were supposed to meet with Toshi and Miyo yesterday," he says. "The checkpoint isn't too far, but they'll only wait so long. They'll either head to Ame or wait and send Ame a message. Now that you're awake, we need to hurry."

"I was asleep for four days!" I exclaim, scrambling to stand as he does. "You could have woken me up!"

"You needed your strength," Ryu answers, and I can't argue. He's already walking away. I growl, bend over and gather up the blankets.

"I didn't know you had someone like him," Shika says suddenly. I look at him briefly.

"What?" I question, eyebrow raised.

"A lover," is his answer. He says it calmly. Like it's no big deal.

"Ryu is my captain," I snap, stuffing the cloth into a bag and thrusting it in his chest. "Be useful."

I want to feel smug at the short flash of emotions in his eyes. I don't.

* * *

><p>"They left," I announce as Ryu searches the checkpoint. He tenses where he's crouched, but he doesn't snap at me. "At least we're almost home. Look, I think it's even about to rain."<p>

"Knock it off," he warns, and I suppose I understand. My behavior is quite uncalled for. I turn to Shika.

"It rains a lot in Ame," I inform him. He stares back with the same look that's been on his face for hours.

"I think we can catch up to them if we hurry," Ryu suggests, straightening and gesturing in the appropriate direction. "If we hurry."

"Then we should hurry," I agree, nodding vigorously. "They must be worried about us."

His sideways glare is more exasperated now than irritated. I decided I'll lead the way, so I plunge into the trees and rip through the brush. Someone calls out for me, but I giggle over my shoulder.

"You have to catch me," I sing, picking up speed. I smile, liking the way it sounds. "_In the forest, through the trees; we're off to Ame, sing with me._"

I giggle at my song. I'm not being a very good kunoichi.

"_Where the sun is bleak and gray_," I continue, "_And rain comes down every day._"

The birds around me stir to life and sing in reply, a glorious harmony as I raise my voice and go up an octave.

"_If you wish to live much more, fly with us to Death's front door. And sing so sweetly that he'll say, 'Safe in Ame, we shall stay._'"

Ryu tackles me so hard, he knocks us both out of the air. I shriek and punch him in the jaw, before I throw my head back and laugh again. But hitting the ground blows the laugh right out of my lungs, and I'm gasping for breath instead. He draws himself up above me, eyes flickering like fire. I giggle some more, this time with a hiccup.

"Stop it, Madara," he hisses, but it's so funny I can't. The laughter keeps bubbling to my throat. I wonder if I could stop if I tried. "Just because we're out of the Fire Country does not mean shinobi aren't looking for us. _Shut up_."

"Only if you ask nicely," I scoff, drawing a serious look over my face despite the sporadic giggles still bursting from my throat. His eyes pour into mine. Which is silly, because his eyes aren't liquid. As I start laughing again, he dips his head down close, voice exhausted.

"_Please_, shut up, Madara," he groans, and something about it makes me silence. He glances back up at me, grateful and surprised. Shika emerges from the trees a couple yards away. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I chirp brightly, but quietly. Out of respect. I grab his head and bring it down so I can touch my lips to his ear. "He's jealous."

He lifts his head quickly, and I'm not sure what he's thinking, but I bet he's embarrassed. Or irritated. As he stands, he offers me his hand and lifts me up in one smooth motion. Shika is still watching us warily, but Ryu doesn't look at him as he turns to trek toward Ame. I follow appropriately, quietly and obediently. Shika falls in close behind.

We stick to the ground, and as we walk, I gaze up at the road of branches above us in longing. I can vaguely recall the tingle of wings up my shoulder blades, of feeling so utterly weightless. It was a beautiful feeling.

I stroke the pearls, and sigh at their loving whisper. It is astonishing, that they have been with me for so long, and only now do I realize how they breathe, contracting sweetly around my arm, how they sing comfortingly to me in angelic voices. Their presence real and firm, and so alive. As alive as myself, and until they saved my life, I had not even known. I hug their precious little bodies to my stomach, shuddering as they flash warm.

Koto told me they were only for my most desperate moments. Did that mean, four days ago, I almost died? I don't know what drove me to such a bold move, only that it was a mere instinct, and I followed it. What might have happened if I hadn't? I look at the back of Ryu's neck, where his blonde hair rustles messily. Does he know? Does he know what they were planning on doing to him? I wonder how he escaped. My fire must have been a distraction.

I saved Ryu's life? I tilt my head and contemplate it, and think that's fair, because he's saved me too. Twice in just the past week. It makes sense I should at least return the favor.

The urge to sing creeps up my throat again, but I bite my lip and even stifle my smile. I don't want to make Ryu mad again. I'm not really worried about anyone finding us, though. As if such a thing could make me worry.

"We're hungry," I say out loud, and I think about the delicious bowl of fish and rice I ate earlier. Ryu swivels to stare at me with dancing eyes. I blink. "I feel like that was a perfectly normal thing to say, considering I've been unconscious for four days. Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Did you…" he pauses, eyes narrowing carefully. He looks both concerned and confused. "Did you just say 'we'?"

Did I? I look down at the pearls. I look back at Ryu.

"I meant 'I'," I say, shrugging. "I just must have mixed up my thoughts."

I can tell he doesn't believe me either.

* * *

><p>Since we're walking, it'll take a longer time for us to get back to camp than we thought, so we have to stop for the night. We all want to keep moving, but traveling in unfamiliar territory with such invaluable cargo would be foolish, and we find a good place in a cluster of trees to stop and settle down instead. The forests that flourish in the Fire Country have long since diminished, and only rarely have we found shade like this. We can't light a fire, so I curl into a corner by myself and chew on bread. It's not that old, so I'm guessing Ryu hit a village while I was out. That would explain the fish and rice and the blankets. I miss my medicine.<p>

Ryu and Shika are discussing something in low voices, and I know it's about me. I want to say I don't care, but I think I do anyway. Watching them will probably unnerve them if they notice, and I'm tempted to activate my Sharingan. Just for kicks. Instead, I settle into myself and close my eyes, sinking deep into my mind. It's second nature now.

The demon is waiting for me, his chakra pouring out in familiar greeting. I blink up at him and smile.

"We escaped," I tell him happily, even though he already knows. He snorts, and I'm surprised at his disapproving glare.

"You are sick, little Madara," he warns me lowly. I press my lips together. "You need your medication soon. And do not use the devil beads again. They consume you."

"They saved me," I argue, crossing my arms. His answering snarl makes me shrink. "Koto gave them to me…"

"As a last resort," he retorts, leaning in. "And unknowing of his ignorance. If you require power, use mine."

"Maybe I don't need yours," I snap, "I want my own power."

"We both know you cannot reach your brother's status on your own," he reminds me, deep and serious. "Without me, you would not be alive."

The reminder of that bit of truth makes me cringe and recoil. He's right. Or at least, that's what Lord Pain told me, when I was young. Without the demon fusion, I would have been still-born. It was his chakra that strengthened my frail body, and it was his power that kept me alive. We were not a parasite and host; I depended on him as much as he did me.

"Little human, heed my advice," he purrs, wrapping me up carefully. "The devil beads will torment your mind until you are no longer yourself. Already, they have taken over a part of you."

"I've been wearing them for half my life," I snap, resisting his hold. "Why would they hurt me now?"

"You awakened them," he snarls, chakra squeezing around me. "And after their sleep, they are hungry for you, Madara. You must force them back into comatose, seal their power from harm."

"No!" I scream. They're mine! "No, no, no!"

"Madara!"

"Madara, get a hold of yourself!" I feel Ryu shaking me again, jerking me from my meditation. My entire body is trembling, and my face burns of tears. They both glare down at me, and I try to shrink away, but Ryu holds fast and keeps me upright. "What happened?"

I whimper softly, close my eyes and curl. He jerks me harder, enough that I cry out, but before he can demand more of me, Shika is grabbing his arm. Their gazes clash furiously.

"Stop it," Shika warns. I've never seen him so intimidating. But Ryu's presence is like a god's, and he raises himself above Shika threateningly. The smaller does not budge, only narrows his eyes. "Don't assume you can scare me into submission. Madara is my concern more than she is yours. Let her go."

"_Boy_, I'd watch my mouth if I were you," Ryu hisses, so remarkably low and deep, I throw myself past his bruising grip and bury my face in his chest. He hesitates, in shock, but I feel his triumph as he curls his arms around me and holds me to him. "You have no idea what my role in Madara's life is. Don't assume to know it."

"Ah, I see how it is," Shika scoffs, and I feel him retreat. His tone makes him seem bored. Uninterested. "Does the pretty Jinchuuriki have all the Ame boys enthralled? How long has she had you in her possession?"

Ryu is pissed. All that keeps him contained is me in his arms, vulnerable and shivering. At least, I assume this keeps him from hurting Shika. Maybe he wouldn't hesitate to throw me off him to get to his enemy. I cling tighter, inching up until I'm nearly in his lap. Again, I feel his surprise first, but it ebbs the tension from his body.

"I wouldn't be so smug," he finally says, his fingers squeezing my sides so I gasp shakily. "She got you in just a couple days."

At last, Shika must give up and walk away, because all I hear is silence. For a sweet, long moment, Ryu holds me and lets me act like a scared child. I feel him everywhere, his muscles locking me in. He smells of heat and musk, and I want to lean forth and taste him desperately. But I remain a heap of silly girl clinging to him relentlessly. Eventually, though, he leans back and stares down at me. I don't dare look up.

"What is wrong with you?" he whispers, somewhere muddled between disbelief, anger, and sympathy. I continue to avert my gaze and he snarls. "Madara, stop it."

"I'm scared, okay?" I blurt, palming my eyes as though I can stop the tears. He says nothing , and I suddenly can't help it. "I'm confused and angry and scared. I don't know which thoughts and feelings are mine anymore. I…can't control myself."

"Your medicine," he sighs, and his disappointment is evident without having to see his face.

"They took it," I confirm, biting my lip. "And Shika… I don't understand why I feel this way. I don't want to feel this way. I don't…"

"Madara, it's just the jutsu, okay?" he hushes, hands finding my face and hair. A rush of heat makes me tense as he tilts my head up. "It's not you, or him. It's the jutsu between you… Damn it, I knew I shouldn't have let you go in alone."

"You knew?" I hiccup, finally meeting his gaze. "You knew the boy Lord Pain is looking for is… is a part of me?"

"He's not a part of you, Ma—"

"Then what is he?" I yell, so piercing, the birds around us flee. Ryu closes his eyes, but opens them again soon after.

"Can you wait until we get home?" he asks, as gently as he can force himself. I glower at him, and he responds by cupping my face lightly. I am aware of Shika's gaze as he leans close, foreheads brushing, as he whispers, "Come sleep with me. I'll explain when we get home. No more camps. Just Ame."

I consider it only vaguely before letting Ryu pull me to my feet and lead me to where Shika sits gloomily. I don't look at him. Instead, I place my head in Ryu's lap, so he can stay alert on watch, and curl up as he wraps a blanket around me. I fall asleep expecting to wake up.

And thinking blissfully that Ryu never denied being mine.

* * *

><p><strong>I am aware I am open for all sorts of mixed reviews about this chapter. o.O<strong>

**But I hope that what you gathered from this is that yes. Madara is a liiiiittle crazy. Not all there, that one. Anyway, I hope you guys are sticking with me. This is probably my favorite chapter so far, actually, haha. I love your reviews. 3**

**AnimeCountDown**


	7. Precious Lover

We get to the camp first, where we're greeted eagerly by some of the other teams, who have been assigned to escort us back to the village. It's a relief, but I woke feeling even more disoriented than the day before, so Ryu carries me. I don't have the strength to be humiliated and instead, I fall asleep, on and off, the rest of the way home.

When I finally recognize the city streets and the sensation of water smacking my face, I groan and look around. Just long enough to know we're heading in the wrong direction. I tug on Ryu's shirt weakly.

"Wrong way," I breathe, watching him stare at me solemnly. "My house. Go there."

"Madara—"

"Ryu," I moan, pressing myself desperately close, my back arching into him. "Please."

The next thing I know, there are raised voices and the sounds of a brief struggle, and then we're running. The rain and wind are picking up and blazing around me, furiously digging into my skin. I vaguely recall the rumors that it's actually Lord Pain who controls the weather around Ame. It's probably just an urban legend, but I still shudder fearfully as his face passes my mind's eye.

Then suddenly, the rain is gone, and everything becomes a passing blur. White lights, hands near my face, something being shoved in my mouth, the stab of a needle in my arm.

I swear, the world is dying. It fades into nothing.

In its place is a room of absolute white, and no matter which way I turn, I feel like I'm staring at the same wall. Or maybe there are no walls. I can't tell. I clench my hands and swivel. Trapped. I take a step back, and my foot lands in a shallow puddle, the resulting splash thick and heavy. Blood. I turn again, looking for the source, but it's impossible. Either I'm alone, or I've gone blind.

But I can see myself when I inspect my arms and legs, searching for a wound that will explain the blood expanding around me. I'm standing in the center of it, and taking a step reveals it to be both sticky and warm as it spatters my legs with beads.

Beads that tremble and manifest, swirling as they take on solid form and begin to connect to one another. They wrap my legs in such a fast, slow-motion manner, I can hardly think to rip them off until it's too late. I reach down to grip them, but the string of pearls is suctioned tightly to my limb, and yanking only makes them stronger.

They suddenly pull me to the ground, and I let out a scream that echoes back to me as they drag my leg into the pool, suddenly deep, and pull me under like it's quicksand.

I scramble, fingers clawing at the floor once I'm waist deep, but all my hands have to grab is the sticky red liquid that merely seeps through my fingers. My screams intensify as the blood swallows my throat and sucks me down until even my head is consumed.

It takes only a couple spins, falling through the floor, and suddenly the air, before I collapse with a ringing thud onto the ground. A new floor, made of glass. I push up onto my hands and knees, head aching terribly, and shake out the dull throb in my bones. I'm in a cage, a solid cube of clear glass that doesn't crack, even when I throw all my weight into the sides.

It sways, though, and enough that I want to vomit, but my attention is suddenly absorbed by the churning waves of lava, red hot and roaring, not but a few yards below. I scramble at the sides, but I'm enclosed completely, and the waves are lapping upward, upward, until they lick against the glass. I scream as the glass floor hisses and melts to nothing.

The wind hits my face. We overlook Konoha, me and Sasuke. The hospital roof is high, and from here, it's as if we could come no higher. But I know differently; I know better. Sasuke and I are rivals. Friends. Brothers. Even if the journey is dirty and bloody…

We will push each other to the top.

Rasengan whirls to life in my hand, and Sasuke's chidori erupts brilliantly against the perfectly blue sky. I rush at him, and he races down to meet me like a terrible angel of darkness. Sakura screams at us to stop.

As our jutsus collide, the scene blurs and changes. The waterfall roars beside us, and the Kyuubi's angry chakra bursts through me. Sasuke's eyes glow an impossible, sickly yellow, and his grotesque angel wings fold out around him. Our chakra expands and tightens around us, suffocating us. It solidifies, until we are encased in a perfect sphere, a pearl of black, of enormous power. Our eyes lock. I feel metal peeling beneath my claw and a jab of pain in my chest.

And then I am falling.

And the world goes black.

When I wake, my heart is fluttering painfully in my throat and chest. I hurt, everywhere, and I can't shake the fighting urge to throw up. I groan and try to lift my head, but find it too difficult. As I'm giving up, however, strong hands are assisting me, and when I'm upright, I look up to show my gratitude. But my thanks dies as soon as our gazes meet.

"You heal so quickly," Pain sighs, a sickening thread of awe and hunger in his bass-low voice, as he reaches out to tuck away my hair. His lips curl in a smile. "You did well, Madara."

"Where am I?" I croak. I wasn't planning on talking, but I need to know my surroundings. My exits.

"The hospital, of course," he answers, something cold in his eyes.

"Where's…" I suddenly don't want to ask. Lord Pain shifts away from me, dropping his smile. He might as well have rolled his eyes.

"Your darling Ryu is safe and sound, being healed up as we speak," he answers, piercing gaze studying my room. "The Konoha boy is in custody, undergoing experiments. But I don't think you're well enough to hear about all that just yet. You always were a fragile little flower. But don't worry. You'll be participating as soon as you're well enough."

I glare down his soft grin.

"I was talking about my mother." His surprise is satisfying, even if he does wipe it away quickly.

"In her hole, of course," he dismisses, but he steps close abruptly, hand on my cheek. I can only hope I don't cringe. "You might think her own daughter would be enough to draw her out of her isolation, but still, she remains hiding."

_From you,_ I want to say. _And I would be too._

"Beautiful, perfect Madara," he whispers, so close I feel his breath. "What a wonder you are. Should you bring about the end of this war?"

"Yes, Lord," I reply, voice as soft as I can make it. I shudder, close my eyes so I no longer see his. "I shall do as you ask."

"Good girl," he growls, and I can't help comparing him to the Ten-Tailed Demon. Except far worse. "I love you, my dear."

His kiss pinches my lips, and I can do nothing but force myself not to pull away. Only when a helpless whimper emits from my throat does he release me, but his hand grips my jaw so tightly I gasp. His eyes are not angry, but they hold a deadly warning as he peers into me. We sit like this for a while.

"I trust you do not take for granted my affection," he says slowly, at the deepest part of his voice. I swallow. Shake my head. His fingers press harder. "Of course not. I believe you've earned your rest, love."

He only leans closer and clamps harder upon his next words.

"And I expect you'll dream no more of your precious lover."

**line break**

* * *

><p>The first person I'd like to see is my mother, but my hopes of that happening are gone. I'm fairly certain Ryu took me to her, that it was her practiced hands that brought my mind back, but from then to now, I don't know how I ended up at the hospital. All I'm sure of is that Lord Pain is no doubt involved.<p>

His words make me shudder, still hissing in my mind whenever I think his presence has left. My lover. I assume he was referring to Ryu, and the sheer thought of linking those two concepts—Ryu and lover—makes my face heat up.

He must be furious with me now. I curl on my side, tucking my head under the sheets. As much as I wish I could go to him, I'm stuck here, and though a part of me hopes it isn't true, I know he'll be the first to visit. If father isn't here by now, he's not in the village. Naru and Suke are both still on their missions, I assume… I have no one left to expect, and right now, I doubt the demon will be of any comfort.

So I lie and wait, not daring to fall back asleep. My medicine is pumping strong in my blood, and entering the dream world is not a trip I'm eager to take.

Without my medicine, though… I frown at the confusing collection of dreams I've had recently. They were more memories than nightmares, but they were so far in the past, it was impossible that I had ever experienced those things. Still, though, they felt too real to ignore. I chew on my bottom lip, calling to mind the pretty, dark-eyed boy I fought in my dream. It was strange… I have no clue who he is, but in my dream, I had more than just known him. I… I had loved him.

I blush as the wave of emotion, still raw and fresh, crashes through me. Equal parts frustration and anger, but it is nothing compared to the thick chord of undying love reserved entirely for that boy. Sasuke. And I am _determined_. Nothing can keep me from—

It's like a blank wall, a gap in my memories. But they aren't _my_ memories. I growl and kick the sheets away, not wanting to be in the dark. There is only one other person who might know what my dreams mean—only one who I can go to. My mother was in those dreams, too, even if the image of her was just a figment of my imagination. Maybe I can ask her. Maybe she knows who Sasuke is.

I stare at the ceiling. It feels like an opportune moment for someone important to walk in or something dramatic to happen, anything to preoccupy me. I'm done with my thinking and self-pitying. I'm ready to move forward.

But I'm forced to wait, because nobody comes in and the whole world is still. I must lie alone, counting cracks in the ceiling and folding patterns of creases into my sheets. I'm stuck to thinking a little bit more, but I do it carelessly and lightly. No tension. No worries.

* * *

><p>I used to have really long hair, like Tsuna. When I was little, I thought it would make me pretty, because Tsuna has always been beautiful. That's not just a little sister's awe, though. Everyone always talks about how gorgeous Tsuna is, how her bright green eyes are wide and glittering and how her sleek black hair makes her sexy. She's perfectly proportioned, with a lovely complexion, long legs, and an elegant throat. A slender nose, full lips, sharp cheekbones. She's stunning.<p>

So, I wanted to grow my hair out like hers, and I tried. I grew it as long as I could, but it never quite looked the same. Mine seemed to fall flat in comparison, lifeless and dull. And I could never manage it so effortlessly either. It was always getting caught on things and getting in the way. When some boys started bullying me in the market—oblivious to who I was—they grabbed my hair and pulled at it, keeping me from fighting back. It was a hindrance, and a weakness.

I marched up to my mother that day, scalp burning, tears in my eyes, and I declared I no longer wanted long hair. Even if Koto and Tsuna, and even dad, sported it so easily. It didn't matter. I wasn't an Uchiha anyway.

She didn't say anything at first, but gathered me up and led me to the bathroom. Without a word, she slid a kunai from her holster, and before I could think to change my mind, she slashed it through my hair. The blade was sharp, and cut everything up to my neck clean off. I gasped, staring in shock at the mirror, and she went on her way, making a neater job of the cut.

It ended up about chin-length, layered and jagged and kind of messy. It was a rough job, but my mom was careful with every flick of her knife after that first slice, and by the time she stepped away, I was an entirely different person. The short cut made my eyes look bigger instead of hidden, and suddenly, my jaw and the angles of my cheekbones were strong and striking. Even my nose and mouth took on a new shape. I was still young, but I could see the difference it made already.

My mom put her hands on my shoulders and leaned down so her face was by mine in our reflection. For the first time, I could see myself in her, if just a little. And when she smiled lightly, just barely, I think she saw it, too.

_Long hair and large breasts do not define beauty, Madara._

It was the first time I noticed how short she kept her hair, too.

I still keep it that short, even if it means I have to cut it often. Unlike Tsuna, I don't have womanly, seductive features. I'm all angles and awkwardness. But with my hair short, that awkwardness becomes fierceness. Nowadays, more grown into my face, I might even be eye-catching, too. Just…in a different way.

I wait and watch the door and think about the next day, when Ryu saw my short hair for the first time. He stared a lot and reached out to play with a strand of it between two fingers before tucking it back behind my ear.

_I like it like that. _

* * *

><p>The movement at the door should be Ryu, but it's not.<p>

Toshi studies me across the floor in that ominous, blank-faced way, and his eyes only scan my body once before they hone in on my face and lock into place. I meet his gaze evenly, and we don't say anything at first. We just stare at each other.

"More nightmares?" he asks, and I don't flinch, even though it was a bastard thing to say. I don't give him any response. So he says, "You were talking again."

"Get out," I demand, but he just stands there, staring at me over his glasses.

"About Ryu mostly," he elaborates, eyes unmoving. "A lot of it was gibberish, but some of it was coherent enough for me to make sense of. Enough that Ryu's probably going to suffer for it."

"_Toshi_," I warn, but already, my strength is crumbling. He tilts his head, his first remotely humanistic movement since coming in.

"He was pretty angry when I told him, though," he continues. "But I bet he was more mad at me than he was at you, so I don't think you should worry about it. Then again, he didn't appreciate you dreaming about that guy, Shika. And who's Sasuke?"

"What?" I answer, exasperated. He eyes me.

"I thought you were saying 'Suke' at first," he says quietly. "But the more I listened, the more I was positive you were saying 'Sasuke'."

"How long were you listening?" I ask, glaring at him. I wish I could call him something awful. But he wouldn't care if I did.

"A few hours," he answers, and I scowl. "With both you and Ryu out, Lord Pain let Miyo and I have a vacation."

"And yet you're still on duty," I mutter. His stare drills into me mercilessly. "Where is Ryu anyway?"

"In treatment, maybe," Toshi says, "Or Lord Pain might be punishing him now. For disobeying his orders to bring you here immediately once you got inside the village."

"He _did_ take me home," I gasp. I grit my teeth and move to get out of the bed, but I'm connected to the beeping machines. If I unplug myself, it'll alert the whole floor. I glare at Toshi. "I want to see him."

"You probably will," he promises, but there is a warning in his words. I have to behave.

"Fine," I breath.

So we stare at each other in silence, and it's a good thing I'm used to it, because Toshi hasn't brought anything with him. Usually, he has a book or a notebook when he watches me. This time, he just stares. Just stands and stares.

I kind of admire such a finely tuned skill. But is still pissed me off.

* * *

><p>I spent the rest of that night with Koto, my perfect older brother everyone loved so much. We didn't talk much, because "So how have you been?" seemed inadequate and anything personal would have been too much. So we sat on the roof as the rain fell lightly and the sky gradually changed shades and the moon floated through the sea of clouds above us. When I slept in his arms, I had no nightmares, not even a trace of one. And when I woke up, we hadn't moved. But I was warm, despite the rain, and his smile was even more handsome in the early, pastel light.<p>

I haven't seen him since that night, but I eagerly await word from him, which comes every now and then. He's Lord Pain's ideal weapon, and he's never given a moment's rest. While I hide behind Ame's walls, my brother leads the frontline. Every scroll he sends, I keep hidden in my room. Every gift I treasure.

It's been two years since I was last in Ame. I wonder what he's sent since then.

"Get out."

I perk up and peer over my shoulder; I turned over on my side long ago so I didn't have to see Toshi's unnerving stare. Ryu is by the doorway, and he looks enormous even though he isn't much bigger than Toshi. The two men stare each other down, and the clock ticks, my heart thumps, and it's Toshi who gives in. He shrugs and adjusts his glasses, giving me one last look, before heading out the door.

Ryu shuts it behind him.

He turns the lock.

His kiss is feverish and hungry, and my mild surprise is drowned by the intense outburst of my own desire. My hands instantly find his hair, and while I pull his kiss closer, open my mouth for him, he's pushing away the sheets so he can find me underneath. His hands are strong and hard, and the press of his fingers at my hips, my ribs, my throat will no doubt leave proof of his presence later, his territorial claim on my body. My fingers pull at his hair while my palms push him closer, and he growls low against my lips when my nails find the base of his skull. His tongue darts out to slide along the roof of my mouth and I snap at his bottom lip with my teeth. My bite is gentle at first, but he groans and grips my thighs so tight, I clench down until I feel blood.

It's not a lot, only enough to collect on my tongue and savor with my head rolling back while he licks behind my ear and sucks on the place below my jaw, where my heart slams frantically in time with his. I know not to be loud, so my moans turn into mewls and my cries become gasps. I pant and squirm beneath him, arching my back and pressing into his hips. He fits snugly between my legs, his weight forcing them apart, nothing but cloth keeping our skin from colliding.

He raises his head and kisses me again, but he takes his time now, tongue swiping in long, warm licks along mine as he moves against me. His manhood, pronounced in his pants, rubs me, the friction hard and deliberate, slow and hot. I keep my hold firmly on his jaw and neck and battle between focusing on rocking my hips and returning his kiss. I'm such a mess: warm and wet, heart faltering, hands alternating between clenched and limp. I can hear him breathing hard, his chest heaving, feel his hands holding tightly to my ribs, his thumbs brushing the under part of my breasts teasingly. I might have thought the feather light touch to be gentle, but it isn't. Nothing about this is gentle.

"Madara…" he growls, voice raspy and low. I moan in response, mindlessly, and he snakes around to press his hand to my back, pulling me flush against him. He kisses me hard again, but he still lifts his mouth, just enough to speak. "You can't do that again…"

"Not my fault," I gasp, trying to pull him in again. He relents, kissing me, but only briefly.

"I can't lose you," he breaths, and his words pop my eyes right open and I'm staring into his. Desperate. Fierce. Nothing like the collected captain he's supposed to be. "Not now."

"That _would_ be unfortunate," I agree, resting my head back on my pillow. He gazes down at me, and I can see his thoughts coming together, his eyes clearing, and I know, by the time he comes to his conclusion, we'll have come to our senses, down from our high. The moment is over for now.

"What happened between you and Shika?"

I blink.

"_What_?" I retort, face twisting in a grimace, a thread of anger unwinding from my core.

"In Konoha," he clarifies, though we both know it isn't necessary. I know exactly what he's talking about. "What did you two do?"

"_Nothing_!" I shout, moving to shove him off me, but he grabs my wrists and forces me down. I glower at him as he leans down close.

"I saw the way he watches you," he whispers, and as pissed as I am, his tone summons chills. "His eyes hold more than lust and desire for a pretty girl."

"He kissed me," I snap. "Happy?"

"_You think so?_" he hisses, grip tightening on my wrists until the pressure makes me wince. For a moment, my pulse stammers uncertainly. Ryu could easily break any of my bones, and my wrists aren't exactly the sturdiest parts of my body… "And you kissed him?"

"You said there's a jutsu," I remind him. He watches me, pausing. Hurriedly, I continue, "Something is pulling us together. What is it?"

He's torn, mouth twitching in irritation. Finally, he sighs and sits up, releasing me. He leans back on his heels and stares at me.

"When Lord Pain released the demons, they attacked the hidden villages," he says, to which I raise an eyebrow. Before I can interrupt, he goes on, "Later, you know Lord Pain called them together, and in doing so, created the Ten-Tailed Demon, which was sealed in you… But…it wasn't _supposed _to be sealed in you."

I frown at him cautiously.

"Lord Pain wanted to be the Ten-Tailed's Jinchuuriki," Ryu tells me with a huff, and my jaw unhinges. I have no time to recover. "But a problem arose during the jutsu, and somehow, the demon was transferred to you while you were being born. Lord Pain was furious, but killing you meant killing the demon and all his power. So he agreed to let you live, if your parents promised you would do everything he commanded."

"They told me it was to safe my life," I muttered. I shake my head, and ask, "So…why Shika?"

"Shika…" He pauses, then exhales a great breath. "He's the Hokage's son. The Sixth Hokage is unearthly smart, and figured out what Lord Pain was planning when the Kyuubi attacked Konoha. Unable to kill the demon, he cast a jutsu on it that would inevitably transfer to the Ten-Tailed Demon when it was created. The jutsu linked the demon's chakra to Shika's, making an irreversible bond that would create instinctive trust and friendship between Shika and the new Jinchuuriki. If the two met, the Jinchuuriki would want to protect Shika and would do as he asked. It seems it creates infatuation, too…"

"So Konoha would be safe from my power," I breathe, marveling at it all. How could Shikamaru have predicted so much? How smart was he? He had anticipated all of Pain's— "Wait. Ryu…the jutsu works backwards, too. Everything—the trust and the…infatuation… It's all mutual. It works on Shika, too."

"So…you can control Shika?" he asks. I nod, blinking. His grin is subdued and brief, but he leans down to kiss me. "Brilliant. Maybe Lord Pain will leave us alone when we tell him. This will make him happy enough not to hate us for a while."

"I think he already knows," I say, brow furrowing. "It's why he sent us to Konoha, isn't it? Wait, _you_ knew. About Shika and who he was… How did you know? I don't think Shika even knows."

"It was my mission, Madara," he says carefully, meeting my gaze. "Lord Pain had me informed when he assigned the mission to us."

"_And you let me go inside?_" I yell, and when I shove him this time, he jerks back from the force. "You knew Shika would recognize me and that Shikamaru would figure out who—_and what_—I am!"

"We had no other option," he says firmly, but I hear his regret as he slides off the bed. "You insisted."

"I wouldn't have if I'd known all that!" He whirls to glare at me.

"_Really_?" I move to speak, but I already know he's right. I bite back, and I want to punch him when his gaze softens. "I knew you wanted to prove yourself."

"Yes, good idea," I reply, and though his expression doesn't change, I wonder if I've hurt him. I sink and cross my arms. "I want to see my mom."

"She healed you," he says quietly.

"I know…" Silence. "Thank you."

More silence gathers between us, and I'm not sure what to process first. For the first time in nearly two weeks, my head is clear, but I have no idea what to do with my brain now that it's functioning correctly. His face has drawn back in, and he's my captain again, stone-faced and level-headed. While I'm staring at him, his gaze touches mine.

"I'll get you to her as soon as possible."

He leaves before I can thank him again.

* * *

><p>I love Ryu.<p>

I was six when we met. He was in my life before Koto was, funny as that is. Our fathers are friends, and when they introduced us, he was as stoic and blank-faced as he is now. He stared at me with the utmost disinterest, and as a child, I was both offended and pissed by it. So I matched his indifference, much to the amusement of our parents, but Ryu looked like he couldn't have cared less what I thought of him. I ignored him all night, through dinner, and he didn't glance at me once.

After that first day, my dad urged me to be nice, to try to get to know Ryu, but I adamantly refused. Even though, he arranged for us to visit each other frequently, and I became a master at masking my curiosity with dislike. We didn't speak beyond what was required of us and when we were forced into the same room to "play" together, we preoccupied ourselves with our own interests instead of entertaining each other.

We never spoke to one another until this one day, a few months after we'd first met. My curiosity had finally surfaced and occasionally won small battles against my stubbornness, and while I still refused to let myself think I was interested in Ryu, I followed him around, sneaking in shadows and behind walls. And for a good while, he let me think he never saw me.

Now I wonder if he was ever showing off, because most of the time, he'd find a training room or go to the courtyard and simply practice. I told myself he wasn't amazing or breath-taking or fascinating. He was just pretty good. I guessed.

Maybe a year after our parents introduced us, I screwed everything up. I thought I was being clever by hiding on the roof. It was a clear day—no sunny blue skies like Konoha, but there wasn't any rain, and that was close enough for me—and Ryu was practicing on the small metal field behind our house. It was a good place to train, better than the courtyard. More space, nothing to accidentally destroy, quieter. And there was no glass roof, like the one covering the courtyard.

I remember thinking how gracefully and flawlessly he moved, as I peered over the edge of the roof. He was going through forms, beautiful, elegant movements combined with bursts of fire jutsu. His abilities were beyond his year, a brilliant display of power that had me breathless and wide-eyed. I didn't realize I was slipping off the roof until my hands no longer had a ledge to hold on to.

I scrambled for the shingles, but they were wet and slippery and I spilled off of them clumsily anyway. I don't think I cried out, as I tumbled to the ground, so I guess Ryu must have always been watching me too. He shot through the air and snatched me up into safety. If I hadn't been so shaken, I would have indignantly shoved him away and stomped back to the house, lies and excuses on my lips. Instead, I ended up gazing at Ryu, immobile and stunned.

He held me in his arms, an easy feat, even if he was just ten. I was small and frail-looking, especially as a young child, before I began honing my body. He stared at me, eyes blank, expression vacant. And I knew, no matter how hard I tried, that I would fall for him. It wasn't a conscious thought at the time—I was too young to recognize my feelings as such things—but I know now that my fate was sealed in that moment.

"I'm supposed to protect you," he told me, uncommonly solemn for a child. He paused, looked me over some more, and then said, "My father wants me to marry you."

It was a fanciful idea for me, something a little girl would fantasize about. But I couldn't really wrap my brain around it. It made no sense. At the time.

"What about _my _father?" I asked. I was curious. Mystified. Nothing more. Yet my lack of anger made him blink, and I think he relaxed. Just a little. "What does _he_ want?"

"He wants what is best for you," he answered. This, despite my previous behavior, made me giggle.

"Are you what's best for me?"

He didn't respond for a moment. Didn't smile, didn't blush, didn't scowl. I don't have a clue what he was thinking then, but sometimes, he still gives me that same look.

"I will try to be."

Ryu ended up being right. My father wanted someone young and powerful to look after me while I grew up. He made a deal with Lord Pain, to make sure his plan wouldn't be bothered, and then he sought his friend and his prodigy son. I still don't know the details of why my dad did it, or why he thought I needed a guardian, one so young. But eventually, it became official. Ryu was my protector.

And in return, I was his fiancé.

The union would give Ryu a lot of power, being in the Uchiha clan. Since my name is heavier, he would become a part of my family, not the other way around. So I could carry on the Uchiha name. When we have children. So even though Koto is the heir, the name will give Ryu power in Ame. Which is what his father wanted.

So, maybe lover isn't completely inaccurate, but Ryu and I, while engaged, have never joined. I admit to having fantasized about it often and even dreamed about it, but circumstance has made sure no opportunity has ever come up. Circumstance meaning, Lord Pain.

He hates Ryu.

* * *

><p>I'm not allowed to leave the hospital for now, not until Lord Pain deems me healthy, and he visits every day. I loathe it when he comes, because sometimes he stays for hours. At first, it was just to check on me for a few minutes, and he would feign politeness by telling me about the weather or a bit of news every now and then. But then he began to stay longer each day, poking and prodding about my life and my family. About Ryu. Now he pulls up a seat and goes on indefinitely about Shika and how his testing is going. I bite the inside of my cheek throughout it all. If I pretend to be thrilled, I know he'll be pleased, even if it's obvious I'm faking. My grim silence only furthers my suffering, but I can hang on. I can handle it if I wait it out.<p>

Ryu never visits. Toshi does. But Ryu doesn't. I tell myself it's because Lord Pain forbid it.

Aside from that…I'm alone.

But I'm used to being alone, and I quickly adapt to the constant numbness that overcomes my body and mind. I sometimes chat with the Ten-Tailed Demon, but our conversations are tense and underlined with mixtures of fury, shame, and worry, so by the end of the week, those visits have stopped, too.

It's only on the last day—seventeen days after I first woke up—that the door opens, and someone I wasn't expecting walks in. It isn't Lord Pain or Toshi or Ryu. It isn't even Suke and Naru, who must still be on their mission.

It's my mom.

* * *

><p><strong>So, if anything, at least people are telling me they like this story by adding it to their "alert" and "favorite" lists. Even if I'm not getting the reviews I was getting at the beginning of this story, it still makes me happy to know people are reading. I may have lost some people along the way. I admit, this story and the characters are bizarre. But I like it. ^^ <strong>

**Things are doing good on this side of the world, though a little hectic, and sometimes I can't think or even breathe. I'm trying, though, and I think I'll push through. I'm trying to come up with a couple oneshots or something new, but I'm struggling with a large dose of writer's block right now, and all my obligations and responsibilities make it difficult to fight. :/ I can only keep trying. **

**AnimeCountDown**


	8. Inferno Princess

She doesn't look like she's aged much in the two years I haven't seen her. She's still pale, her skin smooth and only faintly wrinkled at the eyes and mouth… But she _has _changed.

She stands straighter and her shoulders are set back and her chin is lifted. There is a light behind the green of her eyes that makes them glow iridescently from the center of thick, healthy lashes. Those eyes meet my gaze, and in them, I see a strength I've never seen before. Her hair is still short, but it's different somehow, too. Bright and pink, shiny, swept to the side instead of parted in the middle now. If anything, it makes her look younger. My mouth works to say something. No words. And then she smiles.

I'm bawling before I even know what's happening, and she shuts the door and comes to my side to embrace me as a mother would. Not hesitantly or weakly, but firmly, giving me comfort and support and power. I feel it thrumming inside her as she envelops me, and I soak in as much of it as I can. But before I can collect myself or even stop crying, she's grabbed me by the shoulders.

"Madara, you need to listen to me," she says, and the tone of her voice is enough to jolt my attention. I stare at her, gaping in bewilderment. Her eyes, once dull and wispy, are my only anchor. "Teams from Konoha are on their way here. They've enlisted the help of the other countries, and they will destroy Ame. Do you understand? They will surround us, and destroy this place. Against that kind of force, you are the only thing that can protect Lord Pain. Without you, they will defeat him. Do you understand?"

I can only stare at her. She shakes me.

"Madara! We're leaving Ame," she hisses, her voice low but strong. "Your father and your siblings have gathered outside the village already, but we aren't safe here anymore."

I get it now. I get it like I get breathing.

"Ryu," I gasp, but she shakes her head.

"He's going to meet us on the way out," she assures me. "But we have to hurry."

"Shika," I blurt, to which she frowns. "I'm why he's here. He'll die here."

"Pain will use him as a bargaining piece," she dismisses, pulling on my hand. I'm shocked by her strength, falling out of the bed and stumbling to stay on my feet. "He won't kill him."

"Where are we going?" I ask, as she begins to strip me of my hospital gown and shove my familiar clothing back on. They're clean. She even has my beads.

"West," she answers instantly. "Far west."

Past the shinobi countries.

I've often wondered what land lies beyond our maps.

"Isn't that dangerous?" I inquire as I push into my boots.

"Yes," she says quickly, "But the aftermath of this war's final battle will be devastating. The war has driven people to the edge. The hidden villages may not exist in a very short while."

No hidden villages.

The thought hits me as she hands me my headband. I reach out to take it instinctively, but pause as the black cloth spills over my hand. I stare at it. I look to her for help, but she shakes her head.

"I will not tell you to burden your past," she says, "But I will not tell you to abandon it either."

I realize why her hair looks so different. She wears no headband. Her last link to Konoha is gone and her hair flies freely in its place. I suck in a breath.

"I think…" My fingers curl around the metal plate. "I'll let it go when I'm ready."

I don't know what I expect, but her smile surprises me.

* * *

><p>It isn't very hard leaving the hospital. Mom knows how to disable the machines without setting off the alarm, and the windows are unlocked. It's raining pretty hard, but we scale the building with ease, though I'm shocked to find my mother so quick and agile. She nearly leaves me behind at first, but I catch my breath and match her pace as we slip onto the roof and she leads the way from one building to the next. Lord Pain hasn't visited me today, so he will come to check on me at any moment; we have to hurry. If he sees I'm gone, there's a chance we won't make it out of here.<p>

I shudder instinctively. Out of here. I never realized how much I want this, to leave Ame and its prison walls behind. But I do, and suddenly, I'm filled with a new drive and I feel alive and ready. Right now, I can take on anything.

We end up on the ground, darting through shadowed alleyways, avoiding eyes and making no sound. We are suspicious enough, my mom with her pink hair, and me, who everyone knows is supposed to be in the hospital. Neither of us wear cloaks or hats, even though it's raining, and we've been soaked to the bone already. When I mention it to her, she says they are too cumbersome. We need to move fast, and attack at any given moment. So I leave it at that and keep following her.

When we drop down to the lowest level of Ame, by the deep pools of water that never dry up, that occasionally rise and fall like the tide, I let out a breath. Almost there. The gate is close by, and we should be leaving soon. But as soon as I think it, a shrieking alarm pierces through the night. I whip my head around to look at the way we came, but it's clear. They know I'm gone, but don't know where I am. Yet. I look at my mom, and we exchange long gazes.

"Time to run," she says, so softly I have no idea how I hear her over the alarm. Then she sprints away, faster than I've ever seen.

Except she's going the wrong way.

"Where are we going?" I shout, as soon as I catch up to her. She glances over her shoulder and shakes her head at me. I bite my lip to keep quiet.

And I follow her, telling myself I can trust her. She knows what she's doing. She'll take care of me. I can already hear shouts as ninja give commands above us. Soon, they'll come down here looking for us. We don't have much time…

We round the bend, and I nearly scream when Ryu catches us both, me by my arm and my mom by her shoulder. We all stare at each other a moment, my heart growing louder with every breath, and then she nods tersely, before we hurry to the edge of a pool on the far side. I hear yells of recognition. They see us. It occurs to me that Lord Pain must know what's going on. He wouldn't create such a fuss if he'd thought I'd just gone wandering off. But when I look back, the wave of shinobi spilling over into the lower levels is bizarre. He knows we're trying to leave for good, and I know he'll stop at nothing to keep me here.

My mom pulls me down to kneel next to the water, and shouts over the alarm and the storm. The rain and wind have picked up considerably since we left.

"These pools lead to underground passageways that will take you out of the village!" she yells, to which I gawk in amazement. "Find one and keep swimming. You hear me? When you come out on the other side, start heading north of the village. Your father is waiting nearby, okay?"

"Why are you telling me—" My words cut off as if I've been jabbed in the throat. I see the fierce determination in her eyes and I swallow, trembling. "No! You have to come with me!"

"Madara, they cannot get you!" she yells, shaking me again. I whimper, but nod, and she embraces me tightly. I cling to her, desperate. "I love you, Madara."

And then she shoves me into the water.

* * *

><p>It isn't really warm or cold, and there's no current, no noise, and for a moment, everything is so weightless, I feel like I'm falling again. But I'm not. Just floating. I flail until I am sure which way is up, and then push to the surface, gasping for breath. I search frantically, and my eyes find her small form rushing at the legion of oncoming soldiers. She's so small. She'll be crushed! But she leaps into the air fearlessly, spins, and with a roar, slams her fist into the metal flooring. There's just a second of pure, still quiet.<p>

And then everything gives way beneath her.

Fragments of steel go flying, and the men around her either slam into the walls or slide helplessly into the water. As they scramble to recover, she's already aiming her next attack, and with it, there are sickening crunches and gurgling screams. She's fast, strong. Superhuman.

"Madara." The voice comes from my side, and I gasp, but it's only Ryu. He gestures to the water, and then dives down. I send one last glimpse to my mother. She is fighting with remarkable skill, and I suddenly see her as what she is. She's not just a lonely, depressed woman hiding in the shadows.

She is everything that defines kunoichi.

I turn, suck in as much breath as I can, and dive into the water. Saying it is like entering another world is more or less an overstatement, because even though silence closes over my ears and my vision becomes a blur of grey and dark blue, I can't erase the image of my valiant mother holding off an entire army. For me.

I kick toward a dark figure I assume is Ryu and follow him, using chakra to cut through the water. I hate swimming. It makes me feel heavy and slow, so unlike what I am when I fly through the air. More than weak, I feel utterly powerless, and all I can do is push myself quickly onward as I feel my lungs soak up the little reserves of air I have left.

We meet a steel wall with one of the tunnels my mom told us about, and Ryu gestures for me to keep following him, and I do, even though the thought of _underground_, _underwater_, _in a hole _freaks me out and makes my heart race and I want to suck in a breath to calm myself. But I remember I can't, so I can only grit my teeth, clench my jaw, and swim into the tunnel. It's dark. I can't see. I want to breathe.

I keep going, because I absolutely must, and I refuse to let go of the freedom my mother has sacrificed herself for. So I keep kicking, using the wall to propel my body faster. It goes on forever. It goes on until my lungs writhe and scream and strain eagerly at my throat, begging for oxygen. I wince with every second and every movement, every breath I would be taking if I wasn't stuck down here.

I will not die here. I will _not_.

There's suddenly light, a gorgeous, dim, barely-there thing that makes me shudder with shock, and then joy. I dig into my chakra, and dart toward the beam of hope, after Ryu, who is already racing ahead. With my burst of chakra, I catch up to him as we exit the tunnel, and surpass him as we press to the sky. The world breaks back into my vision with an abrupt explosion of color and sound. Crystal beads of water rain around me as I gasp for air, and Ryu surfaces not far from me, as breathless as I am.

We're outside of Ame, a detail I notice in surprise and muffled ecstasy. I'm more shocked that mother was right than I am elated. I'm too tired, too numb, too weak-muscled. Ryu has to pull me out of the pool, because I can hardly grasp on to the edge of the plating.

We surfaced on the north side, where the city is surrounded by grates and streams that give up a fresh water supply. Everything surrounding us is made of metal, like inside the city, and we won't see grass or dirt for another few yards, which isn't much really, but feels like miles now. The rain has subsided for now, yet the clouds above give no promise of clear skies any time soon.

"Come on, Madara," he whispers encouragingly, brushing aside the wet locks clinging to my face and helping me stand upright. "We're almost free."

"Is your family safe?" I wonder out loud, the thought hitting me hard. His face is grim, but it's always grim. "Ryu…"

"My father refused," he tells me, and like always, I cannot read his face or his tone. "He is staying with some others, who want to help the other countries by fighting from the inside. My mom wanted to stay by his side. But they both understand why I have to leave. Especially my father; it's his fault, after all."

"His fault…?" But I understand as he trains his eyes on me and stares silently. His face is still void, but his eyes are intense, hold me close, and I blush and look away.

But he catches my chin with his fingers and pulls me into a quiet kiss. I swell and melt, and let myself savor just a moment of his kindness, his devotion, his love that he so rarely shares. The kiss lasts longer than I expect it to, and for once, I thrill as I feel his hesitance to release me. His hands touch my face, and his gentleness makes me sigh, and as soon as my mouth opens at the sound, he wanders in, and everything is slow and sweet and warm. This time, there is nothing and no one to stop us, except we're still on the run, and he seems to read my thoughts, because he pulls back, just barely, and space breaks between our lips. My eyelids lift hazily, and my heart thunders when I see his eyes are closed, his forehead almost leaning on mine.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, and I don't really know why, only that I truly mean it. And when he opens his eyes and gazes at me silently, I swallow hard and do not shy from him. Then he lifts his head, and kisses my brow.

"Just a little farther," he says, and I know he's telling me just as much as he's assuring himself.

* * *

><p>The war began the day I was born, and the day the Ten-Tailed Demon gave me life, so I've never seen or known anything different. To me, there was no difference between the words "war" and "life." They were synonymous. When I was learning how to talk and read, I learned "frontline" and "deploy" at the same time as "cat" and "cloud". I had childhood fantasies about one day joining my father and siblings and of becoming a hero for Ame.<p>

I look back and know that I was only being silly, and I know now there's a chance the war will end, and that all this time, that's ultimately what we're fighting for. And so, by the time I was a bit older, maybe ten or eleven, I began to question the war and its goals and strategies. As a kid, one stubborn enough to think she had all the answers, I thought fighting in a war to end all the fighting was a pointless, stupid thing to do. For a couple months, I defiantly protested the war by marching around my house, much to the amusement of my father and his friends.

_Always a fighter, this one._ My father had chuckled, setting me on his knee. I let out a cry of protest, and kicked him in the shin, and he laughed, as did the pretty blonde man and the huge guy who looked like a fish. Dad stroked my hair. _You're the good kind of fighter. You fight for what you believe in._

_She's certainly full of fire, hn. _he blonde one agreed, his one pale blue eye peering at me closely. I blushed under his gaze, but refused to look away. His voice was much deeper than it ought to have been. _A little fire princess, aren't you, yeah?_

At the time, I still glowed at the title, and his words made me light up instantly. I tried to hide it, but they all started laughing again, and my smile broke into a grin that eventually became a fit of giggles. And then the funny guy with the silly mask popped up, seemingly out of nowhere.

_Hey, Deidara, that's pretty funny!_ His high and whining voice made me laugh more. _She's an Uchiha, too! So it's like double fire! Like a…a, uh…oh! She's an_ inferno princess_!_

_Ooo._ I gushed, eyes wide. I didn't really even know what an inferno was, but I liked the sound of it. _Yes! That's what I want to be!_

The rest of the men were silent.

* * *

><p>I looked up the word later, when I was older. In the huge book my mom kept in her shelves:<p>

_Inferno. Noun. _

_1. A large fire that is dangerously out of control_

_2. Hell_

* * *

><p>By the time Ame is in the distance, we're being followed again, and we sprint across the empty landscape with all the chakra we possess. There's no point in preserving it anymore, and with my heart banging around in my stomach, I run as fast as I can, mind full of fear for my mother.<p>

The running doesn't bother me—it feels like flying once I get going fast enough—and the adrenaline keeps me from feeling any real fatigue or pain. I just run, automatically, like my body thinks for me, but I know somewhere inside me that it's futile. With the demon's help, I could be faster and stronger than every living shinobi—but I can't leave Ryu behind. So I'm stuck relying on my own muscles, which are significantly weaker than most. And from the way our pursuers gain distance, I'd say I don't have much on Ame's best.

My steps are like thunder, and when the first kunai whizzes by my face, I flinch as if lightning has struck the ground before me. They're in throwing distance now.

"Faster, Madara," Ryu whispers, low and hushed, but I can hear him and his panic, even if he hides it.

The next knife comes flying at my head, but a foreign metal glints and whirls from the sky, parrying the airborn kunai. I see the spinning weapon circle round me, flashing, as if with a mind of its own, before spiraling back up to the clouds, where a shadow is descending quickly upon us.

I skid to a halt as she lands in a side-swept crouch, outstretched arm clutching the chakram that just saved my life. I breathe hard as the approaching shinobi slow uncertainly at her appearance, as she pulls herself upright, strong and tall, her glossy black hair pulled up high in a ponytail and still falling elegantly to her waist. She isn't facing me—she stands between Ryu and I and our attackers—but I recognize the graceful slope of her shoulders, the shape of her curves, the impossible length of her legs, and the glint of her favorite weapon residing with deadly sheen on her back.

"Tsuna," I choke, softly, but she turns her head just enough to grin at me from the corner of her eye.

"Get out of here, sis," she commands, in that will-never-take-no-for-an-answer voice that makes grown men swoon. "You're almost to safety. You can't stop now."

"You can't by yourself!" I demand, panicking as the shinobi resume their charge. "We'll help you!"

"You don't think I can handle them by myself?" she chuckles, her laughter like starlit midnight as she condenses the chakram and hooks it to her belt in one movement. She brings up one hand to wrap around the hilt protruding over her right shoulder. I can hear her smile as she scoffs, "Don't be silly."

She whips the monstrous axe from its holster and takes on her stance—arms out, both hands gripping the hilt, legs wide for balance—just as the Ame ninja leap into the air. Everything is slow-motion, frozen and dramatic and _I can't stop it_.

Tsuna heaves her axe backward as the teams begin to drop down in one uniform blow, and swings it forward with a yell, the handle flinging from her fingers. The move is shocking enough that a couple shinobi have no time to escape its wide, spinning berth, and as they scream and fall, Tsuna is drawing out her chakram and twirling with all the grace of a dancer. The jagged blade of the disk slices into the nearest shinobi, and a couple of them collapse to the ground, writhing. The other ninja retreat, and I see the flash of hand signs and I feel their chakra piercing the air.

She throws the chakram again, and her aim is dead-on. It interrupts one man's hand signs and he stumbles backward and bumps into one of his comrades in order to avoid the attack. Tsuna flips forward, her hands bursting into neon blue light as she jabs and kicks every which way, erratic but precise. I know that jutsu—our mom taught it to her. It's an offensive medical technique that cuts off chakra flow, and the men drop like flies as soon as she touches them. She lands lightly by her axe and rips it from where it is embedded in the earth, one hand only. The chakram has returned to her other hand, and she spins with both, a tremendous whirlwind of blade and power. Then with a roar, she releases both, and they strike the last two men standing, perfectly.

There's a morbid silence, nothing but the singing of the chakram as it homes in on Tsuna and flies through the air back to her fingers. She snatches it out of the air, condenses the ring to a smaller size, and hooks it to her belt. She strides over to the man whose chest holds her axe, and she yanks it out with a jerk and a crunching squish, the fallen shinobi flopping unnaturally from the force. With a flick of her arm, she flings the excess blood from the blade, until all that remains is a glossy smear. Sighing, she swings it back to her holster, flips her hair a little, and faces me with her hands firm of her hips.

"I thought I told you to get out of here," she scolds lightly, but she laughs beautifully when I run at her and embrace her desperately. She pats my back. "It's okay, Madara. Everything will be fine."

"Tsuna, _Mom_!" I choke, my words disappearing beneath the threat of tears. She holds me out by my shoulders, narrowed eyes questioning. "She stayed behind to fight off some more shinobi so they couldn't follow us. Tsuna, there were so many!"

"Sh, it's okay, Madara," she repeats, so firmly, it's harsh enough to shut up my whimpering. She hesitates, and I see her fighting for the right words. "We need to keep going."

So we keep going, after Ryu consults with Tsuna briefly—which makes me jealous for a moment, which then makes me feel like an idiot. But I haven't seen Tsuna in years, and she's only more gorgeous than I remember, in an effortless, feminine way. It's hard not to look at them standing next to one another and see how great they look together.

We travel at a slower pace than before, since Tsuna assures us we're nearby, and I see we're approaching the small section of woods that lies a few miles north of the village. It's nothing like Konoha's forests, what with the no sun, but these particular trees thrive in darkness, and all the water makes them wild and hard to travel through. I have a feeling we'll be plunging into them.

We do, with little preparation. Tsuna guides us around the outskirts before leading us into a space between gnarled, mossy branches. It's a short journey, and when I stumble into a clearing after only a few moments of twigs snatching at my skin and hair, pressing me back, I nearly fall to my knees in surprise. Strong arms catch me, and I blush, raising my head to thank Ryu.

Except I'm staring into eyes made of black.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, so I didn't update last Saturday, and I'm so sorry because I'd been doing so well about updating regularly! But you see, my netbook charger kind of, sort of fried inside my computer, and since I'm a broke college student, I can't get a new charger for it to determine whether or not I need a whole new computer or just a new charger. : So, I'm stuck using the computer lab in the basement of my dorm. Which is inconvenient, but at least I have an option. And yes, I have all my work saved on a flashdrive, so nothing was lost if my computer is totally dead (learned that lesson the hard way). **

**Anyway, so I've gotten a couple reviews from people saying that this story confuses them. I'd love to clear anything up if I could. I can definitely see how it's a little odd, definitely dark, and on the eccentric side. But if there's anything specific you need me to clear up, just send me a message and I'll let you know or just address it in the next update. :) **

**So, usually, I don't do this, but for this particular fanfiction, I've written it in an interesting pattern. I started it during my senior year, and had to stop for a few months over the summer while I re-wrote Amongst Hell Are Angels. I think I got about to this chapter (possibly the next) before realizing that I had totally lost the particular tone I use only for this fanfiction. That awkward, stilted, not-very-good writing that some of you don't like? Haha, completely intentional. Usually, I just wait until my writer's block goes away, but for this, I desperately needed to keep that consistent tone and mood. So I made a playlist on my iPod and listened to it day and night (even while I was sleeping) to get myself in this crazy, psychotic, depressed mood. And it worked! So, because I'm so thrilled, I decided I'd share the playlist (or the shortened version of it; the songs that worked the most) with you guys. I highly recommend any of these artists/songs. Who knows, maybe you'll find something awesome. :)**

**Haha, the playlist is called "Madara" by the way: **

**1. Alice Human Sacrifice - Nico Nico Singers (Vocaloid)**

**2. Already Over - Red**

**3. Anthem of the Angels - Breaking Benjamin**

**4. Ascendead Master - Versailles**

**5. Breath of Life - Florence + the Machine (Snow White and the Huntsman Soundtrack)**

**6. Can't Come Back - MBLAQ**

**7. Inner Universe - Origa (Ghost in the Shell Theme Song)**

**8. Kingdom Come - The Civil Wars (The Hunger Games Soundtrack)**

**9. Missing Link - Origa (Final Fantasy XIII-2 Soundtrack)**

**10. Lightning's Theme: Unprotected Future (Final Fantasy XIII-2 Soundtrack)**

**11. Mizerable - Gackt**

**12. Requiem for a Dream - Clint Mansell (Requiem for a Dream Soundtrack)**

**13. Rules - Jayme Dee (The Hunger Games Soundtrack)**

**14. Come Away to the Water - Maroon 5 ft. Rozzi Crane (The Hunger Games Soundtrack)**

**15. Dance with the Devil - Breaking Benjamin**

**Love it when you guys review! 3 **

**AnimeCountDown**


	9. Stop the Rain

He stands tall at six feet. His body is shaped gracefully, with narrow hips and strong, but not too broad shoulders, and long limbs. Beneath his skin, pale and soft, his muscles work with every movement, each tendon and joint specifically and carefully honed. The black hair around his face is short now, choppy and layered, brushing his eyebrows and flat behind his ears and upper neck. He dons all black, drawing attention to his face, a contrast to all the dark he's composed of. His neck is smooth and his jaw sharp, but softened by the angles of his lips and nose. His eyes are somewhere in between. They are large, round, fitted with curling dark lashes, yet at the same time, they are narrow at the corners and intense enough to steal my breath.

"You're safe," he whispers, and I lose the last fragment of my self control. I throw my arms around his neck and sob into his chest, just at his collarbone. He holds me and says nothing for a very long time.

I don't cry very loudly, but my tears won't stop, and he doesn't protest at all. In fact, he sinks to the ground, and I curl up in his lap, hiding my face as he comforts me, no words, no caressing. But he's here, and that's all I need.

I'm vaguely aware that we aren't alone. Tsuna and Ryu are still here, obviously, and I hear Naru's voice as the others converse without me. Naru is here, which means Suke is, too, even if he's silent. And my father. I recognize his slow, velvet voice as easily as I might my own reflection. He sounds calm, like always, but worry rides his tone, and when there's a pause of silence, I know Tsuna has told him. About mother.

I close my eyes and the tears leak out.

"You used it," he whispers, and I turn my face up to his in surprise. His eyes search me, and in them, I see sorrow and agony and love. His fingers trace the pearls curving my slender arm.

"I was falling," I answer, nodding. "They just…woke up. What…what are they?"

"They are seals holding the souls of demons," he says, moving my hair from my eyes. "The most horrid demons, not like the Ten-Tails in you. These will fuse with you in times of need, and they will protect you."

"They made me angry," I say, shuddering at the memory of the raw rage that had burned through me.

"That's why you must listen to me when you use them," he urges. I stare at him blankly. "A piece of me lies here, with you. When the pearls awaken, I will feel it, and you will hear my voice. Don't let them drown me out."

"It was you," I realize, gaping. "I heard a voice in my head, saying my name. I thought I was just… It made me more angry…"

"Now you know," he whispers, gently. "If you use them, you will not lose yourself."

"The Ten-Tails told me not to use them," I murmur, and I hold his long, black gaze.

"He wants as much control over you as possible," he reminds me. "But he is right. Use them only when you absolutely must."

"Will they make me crazy?" I ask after a moment of silence. The look in his eyes warns me yes.

"You have to be stronger, Madara," he hushes, and holds my chin hard enough that I wince. But he has my full attention. And I listen. I absorb everything he says. Unlike the others, he doesn't pity my broken mind. He is honest, brutal, and exactly what I need. "No more crying. The shinobi countries are coming to an end. Soon, you'll be all we have left, Madara. You can't break down like this anymore. You have to be strong."

I close my eyes as he presses his forehead to mine. Taking a deep breath, I press back, not mildly, but forcefully, and the pressure of his weight on mine and mine on his fills my skull with pure, sweet tension. My eyes soak up the rest of my tears, and I will them to be dry as bones. I clench my fists into his shirt, tugging just to let him know that yes, I'm _here_. Really here. That I understand. I open my eyes to return his powerful gaze.

"I will be, Koto."

* * *

><p>"We can't just leave!" Naru growls, again, for the thousandth time. His dark hair flops over his eyes as he huffs and crosses his arms, and I feel the urge to reach out and comfort him, but Suke is already there, curling his hands onto Naruto's bicep with a feather light grip. Their eyes meet, and they're gone from this world, lost in their special communication. No one else seems to notice.<p>

"Staying here means _everyone_ dies," my father counters calmly, but the rise in his voice at "everyone" is enough for me to know he's hurting. Naru's eyes snap up in anger, but it's Suke who speaks.

"We don't know she's dead," he points out, and I see my dad flinch, just an eye muscle twitching by his temple, but it's definitely a flinch. Suke tilts his head. It's impossible to be angry with the youngest Uchiha male, when he always looks and sounds so vulnerable. "I don't want to give up, either. I want to try to find her."

"It's not possible," Tsuna snaps, but her rage is directed at the ground, not anyone in particular. No, it might be Pain. That's who she's mad at, I bet. "Madara said there were too many to count, way more than I took on. No one person can handle so many people."

"That's not true," Koto speaks up. He's been silent this whole time, but his gaze is locked on our father. They stare at each other, eyes dark and flickering with an inner fire. It isn't like Naru and Suke's mysterious connection; this is a moment of silent accusation and warning.

"Mom isn't an Uchiha," Tsuna says slowly, her eyes cautious on Koto, and I wonder if she understands whatever is transpiring between him and our dad. Secrets within the family. How lovely.

"That's not true either," Koto sighs, his tone exasperated but strong. "By birth, maybe not. But she has the strength of one."

"Now isn't the time to talk about family honor and sentimentality," Tsuna begins, but father holds up a hand, looking at nothing but his oldest son.

"Koto is right," he admits. The air around us is full and heavy with static of the upcoming storm. A wind makes my hair prickle. "Your mother possesses none of the Uchiha bloodline, no, but I have fused my chakra with hers many times."

"Is that even possible?" Tsuna gapes, her eyes wide.

"Yes," my father says, his voice soft and impossible to decipher. I have never seen him so calculating before. I have never seen him in action, on a mission. I know my father, but I do not know Itachi Uchiha, heralded angel of Ame. "It is a dangerous and forbidden jutsu."

"Well, then, she has a chance!" Naru exclaims, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Why are you able to just let her go?"

"Because responsible shinobi can make hard decisions," Tsuna replies, not kindly, either. "And going back is a stupid thing to do."

"If I let you go back, and one of you is killed in order to save her—even if you are successful—she will live in the deepest depression until she dies," Itachi says, and my blood chills over. "She will hate me, more so than she ever has."

"So you'd rather she just die?" Naru yells. Lightning cracks above us. It's getting dark.

"This war is not about what I would rather," he responds, his voice low. His eyes are cold. But he is full of flames. "That is not the life of a shinobi."

"Your father is right," Ryu steps in quietly. When Naru whirls to face him, he doesn't move an inch. "Sometimes, we have to keep moving. When you put on that headband, you are committing yourself to Death, in whatever form Death comes to you."

"She isn't dead," Suke says, but he is small compared to Ryu. "Don't talk about her like she's dead."

"How do you know?" Ryu asks, not harshly. It's just a harsh question.

"I just do," he answers quietly, dwarfed by the men around him. I believe him.

"The answer is no," my father says, wearily, but gently. Gently for Suke.

"I'm going," Koto says suddenly, and he straightens up, uncrossing his arms and touching the hilt of his katana for just a moment, as if to make sure it's still there. We're all staring at him. Except father. His eyes are closed.

"Koto, don't be an idiot," Tsuna says, hands on her hips again, brow furrowed angrily. He glares back evenly. "You're the oldest. You're supposed to act like an adult."

"I _am _an adult," he challenges, "And I can act however the hell I want."

"You can't just take on Ame," Ryu reasons, stepping forward. He and Koto are the same height. "Pain will be waiting, and he alone is more than you can handle."

"You don't know what I can handle," Koto says, voice low enough to make me shudder. A drop of rain smacks my face. I'm so used to it, I don't even look up. "And today, I will handle Ame, Pain, _and_ this damn war."

"I'm going with you," Naru says firmly. Tsuna makes an irritated sound and throws her arms in the air. My dad opens his eyes. "I can't leave behind two members of my family.

"Which means I'm going, too," Suke chimes, and maybe it's him, with his tiny body and weak voice and pretty face that breaks him. My father.

"Stop it," my father snarls. His powerful voice, even dark and low, has the effect as if he's yelled. Suke flinches, but it's Koto our dad is glaring at. "You are not going back. You're being selfish and immature, Koto. Don't take your anger out this way. Deal with it later, when we're all safe."

I expect Koto to say something. Something smooth and easy and powerful. But he doesn't, and we stand in a circle beneath the growing rain, and his silence is like consent. Consent that my father is right.

"Well," I breathe, and everyone snaps around to look at me, like they've never heard me speak before, like they've forgotten I've been here the whole time. I sigh, smile dryly, and look up, my face to the sky. "I guess we'd better get going."

"Thank you," Tsuna says, rolling her eyes, at Koto, I guess. "I agree."

"It'll take us about ten minutes to get back to Ame at a comfortable pace," I continue, my eyes filling with raindrops. "And the other countries are approaching fast. I'd give it about a half hour more. If we're fast enough, we can get in and out in—"

"Woah!" Tsuna yells, hands held up. I tilt my face back down. In the shadows, all that registers is Naru's grin as the rain rolls over my face. "What the hell?"

"Madara, you can't go back," Ryu tells me, and despite his practiced expression, his eyes are frantically telling me no. "Not you. If someone else—fine. But not you."

"Did you forget why it's so important we leave before the battle?" Tsuna shouts. I fix my eyes on her. "Did you forget we have to get you out of here?"

"Did you forget I'm a human being?" I ask, raising my eyebrow at her. Her face becomes pink, just along her cheekbones. "And that I make my own choices?"

"Madara, you can't just—"

"I am not a pawn," I interrupt. I don't yell, but my voice carries over the wind and rain. Thunder shakes me. "I am not a tool. I am not a toy. I am Madara Uchiha, and I am not running away from Pain."

"But…" Ryu's voice falters. His eyes kill me.

"I will go," I say. It is final.

"Then I suppose we all go," my father sighs. He sounds old and tired, and I cannot read his eyes. Tsuna begins to protest, but he silences her, and her look of desperation has become one of dismay and failure. "I cannot stop Madara anymore than I can stop the rain."

"Don't worry," I say, a soft smile breaking on my face. I finger the pearls on my arm. "I have a plan."

* * *

><p>I never saw Koto but once in my childhood—that I can remember anyway—and Tsuna was gone soon after, being seven years older than me. So really, I grew up with Naru and Suke. Mostly Naru. Because for a long time, Suke was really sick.<p>

He stayed in bed for months at a time when he was very young, and for a long time, we all feared he'd never recover. Even as a child, I'd understood the precious balance of life and death inside Suke. When we could, Naru and I kept Suke company. We read together, made up stories together, and on good days, slept together. We taught Suke how to hold a kunai, how to sharpen a blade, each of the hand signs, the map of the shinobi countries—all from his bed.

There were some days, though, when we weren't allowed into Suke's room, because mother said he needed his rest. So Naru and I kept each other company. It was really me making sure Naru was distracted. When he couldn't be with Suke, he got so depressed, all he wanted to do was sit outside Suke's door and wait for him to get better. I tried everything to lift his spirits, from new scrolls I'd convinced dad to let me borrow to new weapons Tsuna brought back from her missions to new games I'd picked up from watching kids in the market. Nothing was enough some days.

I didn't really understand then, why Suke's condition bothered Naru so much.

Suke was my brother too, and I was sad, but I was nothing like Naru. Now, I kind of get it. There was a time, when I was trying to pull Naru out of his depression, that he shook me off, finally snapping at me, _Not now, Madara. Leave me alone. Some things are more important than your games._

It had made me upset, but rather than crying, I bit my bottom lip and dashed away to our library. It was a small room, frequently used, smelling of leather and paper and ink. I dug through the shelves eagerly, until I'd collected a fine assortment of my mother's best. I toted them back to my brother's sick room, to the closed and locked door where Naru waited, pale and red-eyed. I dumped the scrolls and documents at his feet, plopping down across from him before he could react.

"Did you know you can recreate blood cells with chakra?" I asked, peeling open a scroll and peering at it briefly before looking for another. He stared at me. "If you learn how to make your chakra solid matter, you can heal the body from the inside out. Isn't that what Mom and the nurse said is wrong with Suke? His blood cells keep dying too fast?"

I kept searching, and I talked while I did it, showing him the studies and research, the medical terminology I didn't understand in the slightest. Slowly, something I was doing began to wake him up. He stirred to life, drawing up the papers I'd set aside for him, and together, we read through everything we could find that was related to Suke's illness.

And then we practiced, following the directions of the medical ninjutsu techniques, beginning with basic chakra manipulation and working our way up. He progressed more quickly than I, and he far surpassed me. Mother gave up trying to get him to bed at a decent hour. During the day, he trained hard, honing his physical body to perfection, tearing himself from his brother to become stronger. His evenings were reserved for Suke. If his twin was awake, he'd tell him about Ame, about his training, about anything and everything. He told him stories and whispered things so softly, not even I could hear, from my place at the doorway. The moments became so rare, that Suke was awake and lucid, and so private, I stopped accompanying Naru altogether. Especially on the nights Suke was asleep, because then, Naru would just sit. His large hands, gradually becoming calloused and warm, engulfed Suke's, frail and small, or stroked his hair or face. He was content with the silence, as long as he was by Suke's side. Often, I caught him with his face buried in his arm or the bed sheets, or sometimes even in his room, pouring medical knowledge into his eager mind. He stopped sharing with me what he learned. He didn't have time anymore.

It was like that for three years.

Suke died during our worst winter, when the rain became hail on some occasions and our waterlines throughout the village froze and burst frequently. Life in Ame was dreary and weak that winter, and Suke withered before our eyes.

At night, he began to slip away, and the nurse and my mother worked frantically to restore what little life he had left. They tried to keep Naru out, but he broke down the door and pushed his way to Suke's side. They were both breathing hard, both sweating, but there were differences. Naru was wide-eyed, heart racing, pumping furiously and with strength. But Suke's heart was failing, and he groaned, panting, barely able to lift his eyelids, struggling to survive the agony.

I watched, frozen, as Naru commanded Suke to keep his eyes open, to stay awake, to not leave him, voice low and hushed, but forceful. He planted his hands on Suke's chest, and the sudden power of his jutsu made me gasp. It did Suke, too, for he opened his mouth in a silent cry, his back arching, his head tilting back, and I couldn't tell anyone what he felt in those moments, whether it was pain or relief or something entirely different.

All I knew was that it wasn't enough, and Naru had begun to cry, and aside from his sobbing and yelling, we were all still and silent. I watched Suke use all he had to grab Naru's wrist, shake his head softly, his smile quiet and peaceful. He reached up to touch Naru's face, and he whispered something I couldn't hear over Naru's whimpers.

And then he was suddenly gone, and I knew, not because Suke's hand dropped to the bed or because his eyes fluttered shut, but because Naru let out the most horrid scream I've ever heard. Someone might as well have torn open his chest, wrenched apart his ribs, and pierced straight through his heart. His tears poured as never before, and his ragged screams echoed in the death ridden room.

Since then, I have never seen a moment of more pure anguish. Not even my own.

But something happened I wasn't quite able to catch. One moment, tears were filling my eyes, and Naru was wailing in grief, and then, suddenly, a surge of brilliant chakra erupted from Naru's hands. The burst was so powerful, so bright, I had to cover my face and turn away. But when I looked back up, Naru was gripping Suke's hand fiercely, his other hand splayed over the smaller boy's heart, his face set in pure determination.

And Suke was gazing up, adoringly, at his twin brother. His eyes were laden with weakness, but they shone with new lucidness, and however lightly, he returned Naru's grin.

They won that day, against death, and nobody has ever been able to comprehend what happened between them. When we asked them, Naru would simply shrug and look down at Suke, who would stare back, eyes glistening, before burrowing into Naru's arms. They became beyond inseparable, and over time, Suke gained the abilities of a genin. The three of us graduated together, and to this day, it's one of Suke's greatest accomplishments.

None of us really think he'll be able to become a chunin, though, like his brother, so we never address the topic, including him. But Naru always talks about the day he and his marvelous twin brother will be the best jonin Ame could ask for. His brother, who cheated death. Even though we all know, it wasn't Suke who defeated death.

It was Naru.

* * *

><p>They don't like my plan, not even Naru or Koto. The only person who doesn't say anything about it is Suke, and he just stares at the ground as we discuss and argue. I let them make revisions to my idea, but only to an extent, since most of the changes they make are either for my protection or to make themselves feel more important. When we finally have a solid plan, we head off. Back to Ame.<p>

I feel renewed, somehow, as I run alongside my family. Maybe it's because I normally travel alone, or at the most, with Ryu, and this sensation of unity is as foreign to me as the skies of Konoha. I inhale, the air in my lungs cool and charged with the storm rising around us. It won't be long now before it hits us full-force, and the light sprinkling will become a raging hurricane. The wind has already begun to howl, but with luck, it presses to my back and drives me forward, rather than hindering my journey.

My legs fly in time with the others', stretching longer and pounding quicker in order to keep up with Koto and Ryu's powerful strides. Aside from Suke, I am the shortest, and it requires double the effort to keep up with their neck-breaking pace. I know from the strain of his jaw and the sweat dotting his brow that its already getting to Suke, and while I'm tempted to slow for his sake, I know it will only give reason to cancel the trip altogether and my youngest brother will only be humiliated. It takes only a glance to realize, as well, that to my father, this is nothing. His movements are the most elegant of us all, and it looks less as though he's sprinting and more like he flying with as much ease as a hawk.

Once we reach what we assume is a halfway mark, we split into two factions. My father, Naru, and Suke dash to the right as the rest of us peel to the left. My idea was that everyone would head for the front gate, but everyone else insisted I not head into Ame by myself. It was a fault in that the guards would be alerted that the rest of our party had to be _somewhere_ if we weren't all together, but there was no way I could've won that argument.

It doesn't take long before we see the line of Ame's shinobi guarding the edge of the city. By now, the others are out of sight, so I know it's time to begin the attack. It doesn't matter that we're outnumbered, ten to one. We just keep charging.

Tsuna and Koto flank me, to my left and right respectively, and Ryu leads the way. I'm more or less surrounded, making our party just one more than my father's, the one that is attacking Ame head-on. It's more than ridiculous, especially since finding my mom means we'll have five comrades in a group, as opposed to their three. The idea of having left them so vulnerable fuels me with rage, the kind that builds from my heart and spirals to all four of my limbs and fills my head with fog.

I know the plan, but it's hard to stay in control.

To keep myself from detonating.

Ame's frontline catches sight of us, and as soon as we're close enough, they lunge out to meet us. Ryu takes on the first two, slipping past their attacks like a dancer, and spinning back around to send kunai in their direction. One lodges in one of the shinobi's throats, but the other misses by a margin when the ninja ducks and spins to face his opponent. To my sides, Tsuna and Koto are leaping into action, leaving me, for the most part, on my own.

The idea was that the small army of ninja would be too preoccupied by my siblings and Ryu to pay much attention to me, but the theory is almost instantly put to rest. Even though my teammates have not wandered too far in their battle, a shinobi finds his way through and darts out with a short sword at my abdomen. I jerk back just in time, but I've already been caught off guard, and my head is left open for the quick jab to my temple. I take the hit without tensing, falling to my left side and rolling to my hands and knees. While my vision is a little hazy and my balance is shaky, the blow didn't leave me too damaged, and I withdraw the only weapon I have.

My chakra.

It pours into my hands freely, and I take a moment to thank the Ten-Tailed Demon within me before snarling and leaping at my enemy. It isn't the same raw chakra that the demon possesses. I'm only using a fraction of it and merging it with my own to form the electric blades that spawn to life in my palms. The abrupt appearance of the two short swords is enough to stun my enemy, and he has no time to recover before I plunge the right blade into his heart and swipe the other through his neck. His head snaps back with a crackle, and his body collapses, at first to the knees, and then onto his side, still twitching with powerful energy.

I'm already whirling around to find my next victim, and I'm glad to find him coming at me with little reserve. Yet, when I push forward to meet him, he flickers and vanishes. I pause, but I feel his breath by my left ear before I even have time to skid to a halt. I duck on instinct, feel his blade swish over my head, and as I come to a stop, I twist and toss my blade in the direction I assume he's in. It strikes him square in the eye, and he screams as it jolts his body hard, dissipating once he is smoking and dead on the ground.

It goes on like that briefly, but every moment feels like it's been slowed down until every second is frozen for an eternity. As I conjure another blade and fight alongside the people I love, I can't imagine a time when I felt so powerful, so filled to the brim with pure strength. The sensation of striking down one shinobi after another, leaving them each smoldering where they once stood, has me purring and growling with content.

It really isn't long before only the four of us are left, and I release my makeshift jutsu with a pout I quickly try to conceal when I realize how disappointed I am. I shake the feeling from me quickly, through my hands and through my head. It's the demon, I tell myself. It has to be. I would never desire to cut through life like it was nothing. Only the demon could make me feel that way.

But still, it isn't the rain that's left me chilled.

We move on, but not until after I've retrieved a couple of familiar weapons from the fallen shinobi. By the time everyone has been checked for injuries and Tsuna approves of us continuing, I have a set of short double blades that fit nicely in the cross of my shoulder blades, an assortment of standard kunai and senbon, and a sword that rests on the dip beneath the small of my back and protrudes from my hip. I feel good. Ready to go.

"What?" I snap, a little too harshly, in response to the long look Ryu gives me after I straighten from adjusting my newly found weapons. He sighs and shakes his head, but when I cross my arms and glower at him, he slumps in consent…

"Are you sure you're okay for this?" he asks, and there's something purely, utterly defeated in his tone that keeps me from retorting with something nasty. I only press my lips together and nod. He doesn't look convinced.

"Trust me," I say softly, and step forward to kiss him swiftly. I don't care for the idea of my siblings catching much of my relationship with Ryu. All my life, it's been so private, and Koto and Tsuna have been so absent… It's just awkward. But I do take a moment to gaze as reassuringly as I can into Ryu's eyes. "I will be fine."

He nods. But I know he doesn't believe me.

We infiltrate the village while the others create the distraction at the front gate. Through the waterways again, because it's the fastest route, and Pain won't expect us to take the same road twice—especially since it meant getting through some of his best shinobi. It's faster this time, since we know where we're going, and we surface inside the village gasping for air.

Koto pulls me out of the water, and we begin our search among the bodies our mother left in her wake. It doesn't take long to realize she does not rest with the dead—and they are all dead, for she has left no chance of survival between the crushed lungs and broken spines and flattened skulls. Either she led the battle elsewhere—unlikely, since there's a clear line where the bloodbath begins and ends—or she escaped.

"Pain might have taken her hostage," Tsuna reminds us, but that doesn't sound right either. Pain doesn't take useless prisoners, and there's no sign of a struggle past the war zone. I bring my gaze to the path that leads to the higher levels, the only path out of here. The sounds of my brothers and father fighting in the distance unnerves me.

"Shika," I breathe, more loudly than I realize. Ryu, mid-sentence, pauses, and I'm the target of all three gazes. "She went to save Shika."

"Why would she—"

"She was friends with the Hokage," I say, before Tsuna can finish. I look at Koto, and he nods. "We have to find them."

"Toshi knows where they're keeping him," Ryu says, hand at the back of his neck. "Toshi is probably wherever Pain is now…"

"Helpful," Tsuna snorts, to which Ryu glares.

"His manor," I say, shaking my head at them both. "His basement. That's where he took me, to be tested."

"A better guess than nothing," Koto agrees.

We climb up to the top levels of the city, and shoot through the streets. There's a mild panic among those who have ventured from their homes. Citizens run for cover and shinobi rush to join the fight at the gate. We can't interfere with these ninja, Ryu reminds us. There's no way of telling whose side they're on.

"Like your parents and mine," he whispers, hand on my arm as we crouch in the shadows of a meat stall, "There are other families in Ame who have been waiting for the moment to strike back against Pain. This battle, by the time the other country's armies arrive, will be the last of the great war."

"We don't have time to chat," Tsuna hisses, darting down the street. I bite the inside of my mouth and follow, thinking about Ryu's words.

The war is ending?

If the war is ending, what will be left?

* * *

><p><strong>Hey, everyone! I know I haven't updated recently, but that's most because it's hard for me to get to a computer and less because I'm not writing. I am writing; I'm just busy 247. :P **

**Hope you enjoyed! One of my favorite "scenes" is in this chapter. :3**

**AnimeCountDown**


	10. I'm Not Afraid

Pain's house isn't a traditional one. It sits in a crevice within the center of the city, with a steep, metal slope leading to the entrance stairs. On the outside, it could have been a warehouse. Tall, steel, and ugly, it shoots from the earth and towers over its neighbors, even those on higher levels. The first few floors have no windows, but at its peak are strips of dark glass in place of metal walls. Below are canals to keep the floor from flooding, and litters of decimated bodies.

I sink low between Ryu and Koto, studying the bloodbath below. Rebels and loyal Rain shinobi alike lay dead among one another. The front doors of Pain's metal mansion lay open. I frown, straining to hear something from the inside. If rebels have gotten in, they'd be causing havoc all throughout the building, but the only sounds of fighting come from far away, from the gate.

I wonder briefly if my mother broke those doors.

"We should make sure she's not among the dead first," Ryu says, deflecting my glare with ease. "You know it's true."

"Stop being so pessimistic," I grumble, and throw myself over the ledge. Away from him and away from his heavy stare.

It doesn't take long. My mother isn't here, but she _was_. I shudder as I brush my hands over a dead man's skull. The entire back of it is crushed, soft and squishy where there should be unyielding bone. Biting my tongue to calm my gag relax, I stand, scanning the others.

"She isn't here," Tsuna confirms, sighing as she says it. My temple throbs.

"Don't sound too disappointed," I growl, turning before she can gape at me. I stalk toward the front door.

"Madara, don't take your anger out on us," Ryu says calmly, but I ignore him, too. He doesn't want to be here either.

"She has every right to be angry," Koto answers as he moves to join me. Ryu watches him without replying, his eyes steady and dark. Koto stops next to me. "Lead the way."

I almost beam. I almost turn around and stick my tongue out at the two of them. Ryu and my sister. _See_, I almost say. _He_ trusts me. But I don't. I don't do any of that. Instead, I nod. I turn. I sneak inside.

Not much sneaking is needed, though. I've been in Pain's mansion before, when I was very little, but what I see here is nothing like what I remember. Before, servants were always rushing diligently to and fro, and shinobi stood watch at every doorway. The lobby had been lit by huge glass chandeliers from far off countries, and ornate rugs and paintings gave life to the steel walls and floor. Staircases of stone lined the walls and marble archways framed every entrance and exit.

Now, all its glory is in ruin. Vases smashed, tables upturned, artwork torn, chandeliers crashed to the ground. Even the stairways have been left with gaping holes.

"Well, we know she's been here," I mutter, inching further into the darkness. There's no sign of life anywhere, but I'm hesitant to relax yet. "She must already be below."

"How do we get there?" Tsuna asks, and everyone turns to me. I blink at them. "You _do_ remember, don't you?"

"It's not _exactly_ something one just _forgets_," I deadpan, and then roll my eyes exasperatedly before she can glower at me again. "Jeez, just don't _stare_ at me like that. Come on."

Their eyes on me like _that_ takes me back. Reminds me too much of everyone's gazes on me when I was a child. Of how the villagers would whisper of my progress in training and how Pain would always watch and how everyone always _knew_ more about my life than I did and how they were always waiting for me to do something brilliant. As I lead our party through the demolished building, I try to clear my head of the memories. Now isn't the time to remember. Now isn't the time to lose it.

But the darkness is there, slowly approaching, held at bay by the fresh drugs in my system. I can feel it, my sanity at the breaking point. There are only so many snaps I can take, only so many recoveries I can make before I lose it. Really lose it. Somewhere, deep down, I know that.

There will be a day when I can't come back.

I don't like thinking about it; I don't see much of a point after all. All it ends up doing is making it too hard to try. Too hard to care. But the last few days have been long and given me much time, and in solitude, it's difficult not to dwell on the awful things I typically ignore.

The basement is hidden in a beautifully decorated office—or an office that used to be beautiful. It, too, is nothing of its former state. In fact, it's almost unrecognizable and I fear my memory has failed me. But I creep inside, and beneath the debris, I find the latch to the secret door. Right where it's always been.

I descend silently, before anyone protests, knowing full well they'll follow without complaint. It's too late to say anything. In this narrow stairwell, even a whisper will carry for miles down.

We keep on, following each other closely. When it gets too dark, I activate my Sharingan so I can make out the steps in front of me. I have a feeling the others may be doing the same. Except Ryu, of course. Ryu doesn't. Can't. Because he's perfection epitomized.

Perfection. I frown. There can't really be such a thing, can there? Perfect implies limitlessness. And doesn't everything have a limit? My sanity. Suke's strength. Ryu's skill. Mother's pain.

I blink. That's it. Pain. He must also have a limit.

The stairs lead us to a sterile white hall, an eerie place reminiscent of my recent time in the hospital. I bite my lip as we pause at the foot of the steps, hesitating. As far as I can tell, this place is untouched. Did Pain come here when he found me missing? Didn't my mother?

"Should we start checking the rooms?" Tsuna wonders out loud, voice low, but not a whisper. The hiss of a whisper is too loud here. I hesitate to move forward, scanning the undisturbed maze that lies unwelcomingly before us. "He could be anywhere, right?"

"No…" I murmur, taking the first step forward. "There's a certain place…"

A place where my nightmares find refuge. A place that sits in the darkest parts of my mind. This place I can't forget, that I never want to see again, that will make me lose it. Lose myself.

"Madara…" Ryu touches my shoulder. I flinch away, not meaning to, and realize I'm shaking.

"It's close."

The white of the halls envelops me, leaves me blinded. I can see Pain before me, just as he was that day, that first crystal clear day. That day when the skies were miraculously clear and my mother smiled like she meant it for the first time in years. I can see his horridly marred face, as it was as he stood at the foot of the stairs and smiled with frigid deadliness, with promises and warnings, with those terrifying eyes. The Rinnengan.

At the time, I thought they were beautiful. Lovely with their soft lavender color, fascinating with the way they ringed from the pupil out. I don't know what my young mind recognized in those eyes, but I was instantly, immediately enraptured by him. Enraptured by Pain.

Somehow, my hand ended up in his, and he just kept smiling, and he led me—and in doing so, my mother—from the foyer through one room, then another, to an elegant, unique sitting room. Here, everything was made of glass. Hand-blown, professionally sculpted, so Pain told us. Told my mother. Making conversation. Like she cared about anything but my hand in his. The walls were still steel, but they were painted in beautiful pastel murals and layered with a sheen of glass. Plants and flowers framed the room and hung from the ceiling. Caged birds of every color chirped brightly in the corners and tiny fountains trickled all around us. There were glass bookshelves, glass lamps, glass doors, glass tables, and even glass furniture. The three of us—Naru, Suke, and I—were delighted. I tore myself from Pain, and chased after my brothers to fling myself onto the long couch. It was covered in soft white cushion, but the back and arms were purely glass. The cages were glass, the fountains were glass, the tea set on the glass table was glass, the pots and vases were glass, the ceiling and floor were glass. Everything. Was. Glass.

He sat us down in his beautiful glass room, where the entire world glinted, shimmered, shone, glowed. He took his place on the couch, too, and pulled the three of us close to him. Me on his lap. Mother sat in a chair nearby. Her face pale. Her eyes lost. Her hands stone. Her smile gone.

"You have such lovely children, Sakura," he purred, his voice low and grumbling, the kind that made his chest tremble against my ear. I could hear his heart thud. Couldn't hear the meaning behind his words. "So lucky for you to be able to raise them in a place where everything is so _lovingly_ provided for them."

The halls are white underground. White like the white of her eyes.

"Yes, Itachi and I are very grateful," she replied. Her voice was small and weak and quiet. I didn't notice. I was too busy listening to his heartbeat.

It's fast and furious in my ears as I take one slow, steady step at a time. I can't hear the others behind me. But I know they're there. Tell myself they're there. Promise myself they're there. They're there. They are. They are. _They're there._

"It'd be such a shame if they couldn't be here with us," he murmured, his fingers in my hair. Stroking lightly. Slowly. "Especially Madara. She brings such light to this bleak war."

We're passing doors. One by one, but none of them are right. None of them are _it_. I would know if they were. I'll know when we pass. I'll know. Know like I know they're still with me. Still behind me. Still following.

"She's a very special girl," my mother agrees. Her voice catches. I look up.

It's there. There. _There_. That one on the right. At the end. Do you see it? Are you still here? We're almost there. _Stay with me just a little longer._

"Special indeed. In fact, I'd love to see what she's truly capable of."

My hand reaches out. My skin touches the metal. My fingers curl around the bar.

"Please…you already have Koto."

I pull.

"She's already mine."

"Madara, _no_!"

The agony is dull and the world is muted, but the white is bleeding bright, and my eyes are growing foggy. Blind. Someone's screaming, and I think it's me, might be me, should be me, because that would make sense.

Even if.

Nothing ever.

Makes sense.

Shika is here. I know that much. Can feel him. Like I feel the kunai burning through my eye. I assume it's a kunai. I can't see it. I'm scared to touch it. I'm on my hands and knees, want to puke, want to die, want to burn, want to burst, want to erupt.

I do.

It happens quicker this time, and it flows through me like liquid, like blood, like it simply belongs there. I hiss as it floods me, and I hear him, him, _him_, but he isn't loud enough, _no_, needs to be loud enough, but he isn't, because he doesn't _understand_, can't comprehend, he_ hurt_ me, he _defied_ me, he _pressed too far_.

Sound crackles back to life as the armor snaps into place and the inferno spreads its wings from my back with a scalding, sickening pop. I stand, tense, wavering, then dash forward without feeling the floor at my feet.

They were fighting. Battling. Him and her. He who destroyed me, she who let him, and I release my power on the both of them. It bursts from my mouth and swallows them, roaring, and yes, _oh_, that tastes good.

_No!_

I snarl.

Yes.

My eye still screams, but so does the rest of me now. Water crashes down on me, an entire ocean of it, but it evaporates before it can touch me or my armor. I snap my fangs, long and sharp and piercing my own mouth. Something steel, sharp, large, ricochets off my side. I don't know what. Can't. Can't see.

All I can do is combust and let my power soar, and I do, and it's glorious, and it's perfect, and I want, need nothing else. Can't stop. Don't stop. _Yes._

"_No!"_

The command brings me to my knees. I hear it everywhere, _in_ my head and _out_, I breathe and swallow that command. I howl, put my head in my hands, fight it. Fight it. I don't know what I'm fighting, or who, but I _fight_. And when the flames begin to recede and my armor crumbles to dust, I find myself bawling into my hands. And the tears cannot stop.

"Madara!"

No, _no_. Don't say my name. Don't look at me. Look at what I've done. I don't deserve any of you. Go away.

"Madara, look at me!"

"I can't!" I scream, and I hate myself. I can feel rain in my hair, on my neck, how _da_reI pity myself? How can I possibly?

"Damn it, Madara, you look at me and stop crying this second or I will tear you apart!"

I look up.

"Mom?" I gasp, and there she is, grabbing my shoulders, right there, green eyes blazing, _what the hell?_

"Pull yourself together," she snaps, and I still don't know how she's here, but her chakra is invading my throbbing left eye, and she holds me in place when I whine and pull away. Solid. Real. "Pain ran. We have to catch up."

"No!" Ryu shouts. I almost start crying again, except I haven't stopped yet. "We came for you, not him. The countries are close; they'll take care of him. We need to get out of here. Get Madara out of here."

"She's already injured," Tsuna sighs. She's a ways away. Healing herself. "That probably isn't repairable."

"Maybe not with my ninjutsu," Sakura breaths, releasing her jutsu and reaching around to untie my hitai-ate. "But the Ten-Tails has extraordinary power."

"She still needs to rest." That's Koto. He's quiet. _Thank God_. "Ame is falling. By tomorrow, it will be in ruin. We need to hide. Protect the Uchiha line."

"I don't give a damn about the Uchiha line!" Sakura yells, so abruptly, I flinch as she tightens the cloth over my damaged eye. It makes it easier to see that way, with my left eye only. I stare at her, watch as she closes her eyes and sighs. Finally, she turns to Koto. "You don't need me for that. Take them. I'll go on my own."

"No, Mom!" I gasp, shaking my head frantically. "We came just for you! Naru and Suke and I…_we still need you_! Please don't go again!"

Her eyes hold something I've never seen before. But I've felt it. I know that look. It's the thing that keeps me from dying.

"Go to Konoha."

"Oh my god," I breathe, and I don't even hesitate.

I scramble, trip, fall, crawl across the floor to where he lies. He's torn open, bloody, barely alive, and seeing him, _him_, Shika, makes everything else disappear. I see only him, touch only him, want, need, love only him. He reaches out to meet my hand halfway, and I bite through my bottom lip when broken fingers thread mine.

"You're an awful lot of trouble for a girl," he mutters, and I choke back a laugh and pull him to me gently. With impossible care. "_Ah!_"

"I know," I whisper, pressing my lips to his forehead. I _do _know. I know this pain. This is the room. _That room._ "I know…"

If anything, I'm glad I destroyed it.

"Go to Konoha," he repeats, and looks up at me, determined through this torture. "My dad will help you."

"No," Sakura interrupts, and when I look at her, she's full-out glaring at us. At him. At herself. "I will not seek refuge from those I abandoned."

"You have more pride than any Uchiha," Shika observes with a drawn out sigh.

"It's isn't pride," she answers quietly, her glare fading. "It's respect."

It's raining. My power blew a gaping hole right through the earth, through the building above us. I don't know how the tower is still standing, isn't crumbling down on top of us—the foundation must be ridiculously strong. How any of them are still alive is yet another mystery. I destroyed so much. I cradle Shika in my arms. Scarred, broken, beautiful Shika.

"Who is Sasuke?" I ask.

My mother's jaw pops open, just like that. For a moment, she is speechless.

"_What_?" she gapes, no breath in her voice. My heart lurches. She _does_ know.

"Sasuke," I say slowly, watching her hard mask fall. "Who is he?"

"Where did you hear that name?" She's. Horrified.

"You have to come with us now," I breathe. "I _have to know_."

"Madara, who told you that name?" she growls. Now she's furious.

The explosion that answers rocks our feet and rains debris on our heads. I shield Shika instinctively, who groans at the unwelcome movement, but I don't let up when I feel the dust smatter my scalp and neck. At any moment, that dust could be stone or steel, and I can't let Shika be hurt any more than he already has. I will protect him. He's all that matters right now.

"That came from the main gate," Tsuna breathes, as soon as the earth stills again. Her eyes are wide, and on our mother. "Mom, that's where Naru and Suke are. That's where Dad is."

She looks torn, but I bet it's Suke that wins her over. His name is like a bomb in my family. Drop it, and surrender soon follows.

"Fine," she says, getting to her feet and beginning to make her way to the nearest exit. Over her shoulder, she calls, "But we need to hurry. I will not be here when Konoha's forces arrive."

I breathe out slowly, but smile after a moment in triumph.

"You heard her," Ryu says softly, and I start and twist to find him standing right over me. _Right_ over me. Enough so that… He rubs the back of his head tenderly as he observes me—_us_—coolly and without comment, and then turns to follow my mom. "Better hurry."

Blood trickles along his spine.

With every step, he limps.

* * *

><p>Mom won't talk to me.<p>

Ryu won't let me heal him.

Ten-Tails won't respond when I call.

It's harder than I realized to see with just one eye.

Shika keeps falling even though Tsuna and I are holding him up.

My plan would have been so much better.

With one eye, my depth perception is entirely thrown off. I have to adjust my body weight in weird ways when I walk or if I jump more than a few feet. My Sharingan is somehow still activated, I think, so all the chakra there is pulsating powerfully enough to distract me, give me a terrible migraine. It's like it's stuck there and can't get back into the regular flow with the rest of my chakra. I keep reaching in myself for the Ten-Tailed Demon, but he's somewhere far from me. I can just barely feel his presence lurking in my depths.

It's the beads, I know it. When we began to move out, Koto told me to take them off, and when I hesitated, he marched over to do it himself. He was angry. So angry. I think it was mostly at himself, though, and as he snatched up my arm and twisted me toward him, I couldn't help but think he looked so much like dad.

And a little bit like the boy in my dreams.

We quickly discovered, though, that removing the pearls would be no easy task. Where once they had rested, lifeless, coiled snugly around my arm, they are now embedded into my skin, melding with me. My flesh has consumed nearly half of each black pearl, and looking down at it makes me gag. It should hurt. I should be able to feel it. But only when I look down am I reminded that I am slowly being taken over by yet another force. Another predator that hunts down the remaining fragments of my sanity.

I know the kunai wasn't meant for me. Mom and Pain were just getting going when I opened the door. So Shika tells me. Pain had come down, barking commands at him as he unlocked his shackles—chains I remember myself, from _those days_. Shika had only been partially awake. Drugged, dreary, and barely lucid. Pain was saying something about his father, about bait, about Madara. Before he could make any sense of it all, my mother had arrived, and they conversed only briefly—leaving Shika on the floor, who can't remember a word of what they said—before they went at it. And then he'd heard someone scream my name.

"Only when I saw you…" he forces out. It's hard for him to speak at all as we limp awkwardly along Ame. People who pass us are far and few between, and they ignore us more or less. Most are citizens who flee from us in fear. Some are shinobi, but they have other places to be, or they're on our side. "Only then could I find the strength to move…but then you went berserk again. It took me a second to be able to call out to you. To stop you."

"I thought it was you…" I murmur, to myself, so Ryu or Koto won't hear. Whatever jutsu binds Shika and I…it was him who brought me back. "Do you know? About…_this_?"

"The jutsu?" he grunts. I frown. Mom should heal him. She's still far ahead, leading the way, getting farther every second. "Only from Pain. I mean, I felt it when we met, but I thought I was just falling for a really strange, really pretty kunoichi from Rain. I had no clue we were programmed to feel this way until Pain started torturing me."

It's on my tongue, but "sorry" won't come out.

"Ryu knew," I say quietly. He passes me a glance, but the pain diverts his attention once more just as quickly.

"Your boyfriend?" he asks, and I flinch. And then I flinch because I flinched.

"He's not…" He gives me a fair minute to continue, but I can't.

"I'm not my father, but I'm not stupid, Madara," he laughs, shaking his head. "Neither of us can deny what's between us, but it isn't…_real_. It's manufactured. What you have with Ryu? I can't say I understand it, but _that's_ real. You can trust that. Us? I'd like to say our bond is that of…partners. We'll be there for each other, trust each other, care for each other. But never more than that. Just…friends."

If I keep staring at him, I'm bound to trip over something.

"Things aren't supposed to be that simple," I say quietly. He smirks his awkward, one-corner smile.

"Sometimes, they can be."

* * *

><p>As a genin, and as someone without much skill, most of my missions have been team efforts, with one or two enemies at best. Occasionally, I end up going head-to-head with an opponent on my own, but I've never been "sent into battle". Koto has. Tsuna has. My father has. But I have never seen war first hand.<p>

Not like this.

If nothing else, it's dizzying. Everyone's moving at top speed, metal is flying, jutsus are being sent in every direction, and everywhere, people are dropping like flies. I've never seen so many people dying and dead, losing their lives in elegant synchronization with foe and friend alike, hearts stopping only a beat or two before or after the other. Sometimes within the very same breath. The rain is as merciless as the shinobi. It's hard to see, hard to walk, hard to fight. And in the distance, I can see another army.

Before I can blink, my mom is suddenly grabbing me, pulling me and Shika behind a wall that's already crumbling from all the hits it's taken. That explosion—whatever it was—blew a hole right through Ame's walls. The high, stone-and-steel defenses that held me captive here for years. The ones I never fathomed escaping. Gone. Just like that.

"Mom, what are you doing?" I huff as she shoves us in a corner, artfully hidden from anyone's eyes.

"You two can't be a part of this," she says, cutting me off as soon as I open my mouth to protest. "No, Madara. You are not fighting here. We'll come get you when we can get you out of here."

"Why does everyone keep making these decisions for me!" I yell after her, but she's already gone. I fume, but I don't follow her. I turn to Shika. He looks miserable. I kneel at his side, where he's leaning against the wall, face scrunched, body coiled. "What hurts the most?"

"Don't," he manages, then nods, with one eye still shut, toward my face. "Work on your eye instead."

"Shika," I say firmly, with the tone I once heard my mom use on Naru when we were kids. "My eye is fine. You are on the brink of death."

"Your eyes are more important than my life," he gasps. I purse my lips.

"That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard anyone say in my life," I snap. "You tell me right now, Shika."

"Everything, Madara," he groans, giving me _that look_. "Everything hurts."

"Well fine," I mutter, place my hands on his chest, and close my eyes.

I don't know how I'm going to do this. I still have some chakra, but most of it is still focused on my eye, and it burns when I try to use it. So I reach deep inside me, deeper than I've ever reached, and scream for the Ten-Tails. I scream with all my energy, all my might, everything I'm made of. I will him to hear me, wish for it more than I have ever dared.

And still, he doesn't answer.

But the beads do.

Wrapped around my arm, they shiver where they're embedded in my skin, stir to life and begin to squirm even deeper. A flash of rage blinds me, fills me with hellish heat, and I cry out—this rage…it's not mine. They burn and blister my flesh, each one spiking me with renewed feelings of fury. Fury I've never felt before. Fury I don't want. I groan, cry, try to rip them out, but they're stuck. Firm. Burning. They're taking over.

I don't want to heal Shika. I want to _devour_ him. Take his fragile neck and snap it between my hands. Want his flesh in my teeth, his blood down my throat, his chakra in my belly. I want him.

But I love him, and how could I hurt him? Why? _Because I can._ Because he'll be delicious and satisfying and because nothing will stop me. Nothing can stop me. Us. But I don't want to. Yes we do.

Yes. We do.

A heat brighter than any demon erupts through me so suddenly, I scream. We scream. They scream. Through me, through my mouth, but it's not me. It's them. The demons inside. _Me?_ I love this heat. It's warm and beautiful and powerful and innocent. It wraps me up and shields me from them. Burns them away. Burns them to nothing. To ash and dust and nothing.

I'm in myself again. Like when I speak to the Ten-Tails. Or when I use the Mangekyo. Or when I dream.

Except this world is made of white. There is nothing but the white; it overtakes everything around me. And it isn't like the white of Pain's halls or the hospital. It's a brand new white, a white that's never been touched, a natural white. It's beautiful and brilliant. I bathe in it. Wide-eyed and frozen as I am, I let it wash over me. Let it cleanse me through.

I don't know if I'm expecting it when he appears. I don't think I am, but his appearance doesn't surprise me. He comes out of the white, as suddenly as if he was always there. A tall, handsome young man with sun-colored hair, gold-touched skin, and sky-blue eyes. He has a strong face, a masculine build, and a sweet, kind smile that makes me want to cry. I've never seen a more beautiful smile.

"You don't have to be afraid," he says, and while he doesn't actually move to touch me, I can feel his embrace in his words. "You have the power to make things better."

"No, I don't," I argue, shifting my weight and crossing my arms. "I don't have any power at all. The Ten-Tails won't even listen to me. It's like he's gone."

"Not that kind of power, Madara," he says softly, and leans forward to poke my chest. "You have strength here."

"How?" I sigh. His eyes are easy to lose my doubts in.

"We all have strength in our hearts," he tells me, and for a moment, he looks sad. "Sometimes, it's just that some hearts are full of darkness, too. And the darkness makes it hard to find the light."

"And the light is our strength?" I sniffle, and he nods, taking back his hand. I tilt my head at him. "You're Naruto, aren't you?"

His smile is full of sorrow.

"Yes, I am," he says, nodding. "So, I can't say I know exactly what you're going through. I grew up with the Kyuubi sealed inside me. I didn't know until I was twelve. I didn't know why everyone hated me until then. But it made me determined to prove everyone wrong."

"Did you?" I ask. He shrugs.

"I don't really know," he admits, but when he stretches and places both hands behind his head, I think he's just being modest. He lifts his eyes above us, and I follow his gaze. I don't know what he sees, but all I see is the white. "I hope so, but I didn't really get a chance to find out. But that's okay. It's nice here, too."

"Here?" I blink, then suck my bottom lip between my teeth. "It doesn't look very nice from my Mangekyo."

"The Sharingan distorts many beautiful things," he sighs, not sounding angry…or bitter…just…

"You're right," I murmur, then look back at him. He's watching me again. "Did you know Sasuke?"

I have never seen a look like the one that comes over his face. It is full of sadness and pain and fear and regret and hope, and above all else, it is brimming with the purest love.

"Yes, I know Sasuke," he says, so very quietly. Like my mom when she talks about Konoha.

"Know?" I repeat. "I thought he might be dead."

"He is," he says, a small smile curling his lips.

"Is he with you? Wherever you go when you die?" I ask, and when he gives a short nod, I feel a rush of happiness. For Naruto, for Sasuke, and for myself. One day, I might meet him. "Who was he?"

Now, he pauses.

"Your mother…" he says slowly. "You should ask her."

"I have!" I say. "She won't answer me! I thought I liked her like this…_strong_. A kunoichi. But now she just keeps shoving me aside!"

"She's scared," he explains. "Sakura's lost so much in this war. She doesn't want to lose you, too. She's hurting a lot. She has been for years."

"Does she hurt because of you?" I ask.

"Maybe. But I think she hurts for Sasuke more."

"Why?"

"Because she loved him."

I remember seeing the three of them. My mom, young and smiling and pretty. Naruto, grinning, and much smaller than he is now. And Sasuke. The brooding, dark-haired young man with eyes just like Koto's.

_Sasuke, will you walk home with me?_

_Naruto's so annoying, Sasuke! He hates me! And I hate him!_

_Sasuke…_

_Sasuke?_

_Sasuke!_

I shake my head. Naruto is staring.

"But…if you…" I gather my thoughts. "Shikamaru, the Hokage…he said you loved my mom. But she loved Sasuke? Did she hate you? Weren't you on a team?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much how it was," he laughs and grins. "But I think I got her to stop hating me."

"Well, who did Sasuke love?" I wonder. He tilts his head.

"I think…" he pauses, then continues on another soft breath, "Sasuke loved his brother. That's why…"

"Tell me!" I cry, but he shakes his head. I huff. "Is _he_ dead, too?"

"No…" Naruto whispers. That look only deepens in his eyes. "No, he isn't."

"Well, who is he?" I growl. Still, he's silent. "I mean, do I know him? Is he important?"

"Be strong, Madara," he says, and it's only now I realize he's fading.

"No!" I cry out, but when I reach out to him, my hands pass right through his body. "Please don't go! I'm not ready for you to leave yet! I don't know what to do!"

"You will," he promises, and rests a hand atop my head. Somehow, I feel it. "You're strong, Madara. You'll know what to do. Follow your heart."

"But what about the darkness?" I whimper. He ruffles my hair gently.

"The trick is choosing _to be_ the light," he whispers. "If you need me, I'm always with you."

Instinctively, I reach up to grasp my pendant, his pendant—_our_ pendant—between my fingers. He nods. I can barely see him now. But he's right. The more he vanishes before me, the more I feel him inside me. It's such a familiar presence, I welcome him gladly back within. I know this feeling. I never knew it was him all along. The thread keeping me from falling. Now, it's even stronger. Hands grabbing mine and lifting me from the brink.

_Thank you._

And just like that, I'm back at war.

* * *

><p>I don't know how I do it, but I fix Shika. I give all the credit to Naruto's renewed strength in me, as though his chakra has combined with mine. Maybe it's the Ten-Tails, because he's back, too, purring deep and powerfully and filling me with his restorative powers. They pour from him to me to Shika, and I fill him with new life.<p>

He heals my eye, too. A part of me isn't surprised, but I let out a long breath of gratitude when I pull my hitai-ate into the correct position and am able to blink the starry darkness from my sight. I lift my hand to touch it, and while I still feel the dried blood and pus from before, I smile. No gash, no fresh wound, no oozing. That's good.

"Looks good as new," Shika breathes, and I grin at him. I don't know why. I just feel like grinning.

"So do you," I return, and it's true. He does. He smiles awkwardly.

"Nothing like a fully functional body," he agrees, and I can feel his genuine relief beneath his chuckle. He's stretching, testing his strength, and I give him the time he needs until he drops to a squat in front of me. "You ready for this?"

"I'm not afraid," I whisper. He blinks. "Of the Ten-Tails… I feel like… I think I'm okay now."

He nods. He smiles. He stands and extends his hand to me.

"Then let's finally show Pain what you can do."

* * *

><p><strong>As I was re-reading this for a last edit and check, I believe I shall claim this to be my favorite chapter thus far. Possibly of anything I've written before. I've hidden a lot of special, secret meanings in a lot of this that some of you may be able to catch and appreciate. I hope so. But really, I'm proud of this. I know some people don't like the writing style I use for this story, but alas. I love it. It's different, and it's always good for a writer to try different things. <strong>

**I don't know much else of what to say, other than I hoped you enjoyed, and as always, I hope you review. **

**And here's hoping my writer's block goes away soon. :P**

**AnimeCountDown**


	11. Vow of Loyalty

The Ten-Tailed Demon is difficult to describe. He's an accumulation of all nine of the tailed beasts that came before him. It is why he is as lethal as the Nine-Tailed Fox and as calm and unassuming as the Three-Tailed Turtle. All in all, he is purely the essence of everything. Omniscient, almighty, perfect. If he wanted, I don't doubt he could take over my body as easily as he could blink his eyes. For some reason, he never has. There's no seal holding in his chakra. He waits for me to open myself to him. He waits until I return to that place in my mind, the dark, candle-lit cavern where he resides in an unlocked cage.

And when I do, we open the gate together.

He burns through me cold and hot, but slowly, so I have time to adjust, so it doesn't hurt like it should. He fills me until I have no room for anything else. Not blood or air or muscle or bone. He fills me until he is I and I am he, and nothing and no one can define where he begins and I end. Not even me.

Inevitably, he's too much for my body to contain. His chakra bubbles through, seeps through my skin and molds to the surface of my body, morphing who and what I am. My torso elongates, my nails and teeth sharpen and lengthen, my limbs contort until my joints bend backward, my skin ripples until it's something new. I can see, smell, hear everything, and my muscles—new and improved—twitch in anticipation at what lies ahead.

It's dangerous business, using a tailed demon's chakra, but I feel safe, calm, and in control. He has not emerged completely. No, not yet. I am in an in between stage, where just enough of him has created a miniature version of himself. And he, still, is an enigma. Such a mixture of things I cannot put his physical appearance into words. Monstrous, canine, but with distorted features all the same. Heavily slanted eyes, bulky chest muscles, and lean on four legs. Where my elbows once were juts extended bone, and his ears lay permanently flat against his head. He is black, all black, shrouded in a hazy purple aura that mingles with the reddish-orange glow of the chakra that now consumes me. Only his eyes, a furious, clear-as-daylight yellow peer from the shadowy abyss that is the Juubi. The Ten-Tailed Demon.

I have not fully taken his form. I am a distortion of what he and I am mixed together. But this is all I need. His chakra. I flick his tails experimentally. The wind stirs in response, and I feel the earth tremble. Yes. This is all I need.

Shika's eyes are, again, awed and admiring. I grin at him and his smile twitches to life again. He nods, and I know he's telling me to go.

With a single bounce of my legs—all four of them now—I clear the crumbling walls and propel myself into the battlefield. I roar in warning as I descend. Though my—his—body is not terribly bigger than it normally is, his chakra expands around me, a massive, pulsing force that could easily tear a man to shreds. They glance up only once before scattering, and I land among them with a crash. The ground gives way, the battle pauses around me, the rain hits my face. I lift his mussel and let out a terrifying screech.

I am center stage.

No one dares look away.

This is what they've been waiting for.

I toss and turn my head, and it's a strange thing, demanding the fear and respect of these people. Of controlling them with my mere presence. Inside me, I feel the Ten-Tails thrum in a way of such contentment, I finally understand. This is why he waited so patiently. Not bloodthirsty or arrogant, he foresaw this day. This day of supreme power. My mind has never felt so clear.

There is a sudden flicker of movement, to my far right, in my peripheral, but I catch it. The Ten-Tails has eyes that see all—his eyes are that of the purest Sharingan. The ultimate Mangekyo. It is a man, not tall or short, heavy-set and red-faced. He removes his giant shuriken from the holster on his back, and chucks it right at me. I swipe it away with a hand gloved in a chakra claw, open my mouth, and bathe him in a roaring fire. I expect them to scream, panic, fight, something. But that one man was enough of a warning.

And they're waiting, too. To see whose side I'm on.

"Madara!"

I swivel to face my mother. She's pushed her way to the front of the crowd of armed shinobi around me, closely followed by my father. I smile. Good. My eyes leave them briefly to search, and this Sharingan makes short work of it. I see Koto and Tsuna. Ryu. Even Naru and Suke. Though Suke looks as though he might faint—from battle or shock, I can't say.

"Madara, can you hear me?" she says, voice raised, but not quite a shout. I smile again.

"Yes," is my answer, and my voice resonates with new, raw strength. I feel like a god. "I'm fine."

"You…" She's breathing hard. She leans over to my father, dazed. "She's…controlling it."

My father doesn't look surprised. He wears the Uchiha mask well. It's one of the only things I inherited from him that my siblings didn't. The corner of his mouth quirks.

"They are bonded," he says, and a murmur ripples across the ground. This is news. "She may control him because he offers it to her. They are at peace with each other."

The whispers are growing. Until they're all shouting, shifting, moving. Now they know. The Jinchuuriki holds the power. She is not weak. She is not a tool.

And Pain has nothing.

I lift my head and throw flames in to the air. They all still beneath the heat, the roar, the power. I hold them all motionless with my eyes. My voice carries for miles.

"Today, I mark the end of this war," I declare, and though many exchange glances, weapons still in hand, no one argues. "As of this moment, I dethrone Pain of his position of power and name him and any man who swears loyalty to him a traitor and enemy of Ame. And any such man or woman will fall under whatever judgment I see fit."

Silence. They soak it in.

"In less than a half hour's time, armies from the shinobi nations will arrive, and we will seek peace with them by whatever means necessary. While we seek the terms to this peace, the shinobi of Ame are given the task of restoring the village. Imprison the disloyal, send out search parties for Pain, heal the wounded, and assist any civilians. I want Pain's Tower torn down and a guard set up around the city's perimeter.

"For each of these jobs, I designate captains. Tsuna and Naru Uchiha will organize the medical teams."

They are as surprised as everyone else, but then Naru smiles his cocky smirk and Tsuna nods with her gaze firm and glowing. They're proud. I lift my head a little higher.

"Kisame Hoshigaki?" I call out. There's a pause, and at first, I fear he's fallen. But I hear him approach behind me, and I turn to him.

"I'm here, little princess," he says, voice gruff and high, and everything I remember it to be from my childhood. I eye him confidently.

"Do I have your loyalty?" I ask him. He flashes a sharp grin.

"I've lived a while in this world," he chuckles, "And I've learned a thing or two. Yeah. The Uchiha family has my vow of loyalty."

"Then Kisame Hoshigaki and Itachi Uchiha shall gather a party to find Pain," I command. My father watches me. "You will leave shortly."

Kisame adjusts his sword. My father slowly nods.

"Ryoku Shimamura," I call. Ryu's father limps forward. "See you get yourself healed. Then you are charged with handling Ame's traitors. Keep a list of those who wish to swear new fealty to me, and those who stay loyal to Pain.

"Ryu Shimamura, Koto Uchiha, and Sakura Uchiha," I finally say. "I would like you by my side until this is resolved."

I watch the people of Ame. Some are uncertain, others relieved, more still ecstatic. They are my people now.

"Be wary, Ame," I warn. "The Ten-Tails is a part of me. And I may now revert back to this form, or a greater one, at a moment's notice if I wish or should need to. Do not test me. Believe me when I say Pain is _gone_… Believe me when I say this war is _done_!"

They scream in applause, and I shower them in the warmth of my fire.

* * *

><p>"That was the coolest damn thing I've ever seen in my life!"<p>

It's Naru, and he runs at me so hard, I think he'll trample me for a second. But instead, he scoops me up and twirls, and I laugh loudly, even if nearby shinobi watch us with the strangest of looks on their faces. Most everyone has already fallen into action at my command, and they do so flawlessly. The rebels come together, and most of Pain's followers are too afraid, or just too smart, to fight back. Any who do are easily taken down.

For once, the rain feels good on my face. I laugh as I have never dared laugh before, and I fall madly, deeply in love with the sound. I let Naru spin me around, and I cling to his shoulders, squealing in foreign delight. The rain is soft and lukewarm, and for the very first time, I welcome its presence on my skin.

"Oh, Madara!" Naru gasps, setting me down and giving me a breathless grin. He places his large hands on my shoulders. His inky hair lays flat on his forehead, and his black eyes sparkle, and for a moment, looking at that smile, I think of how aptly he was named. "That was amazing! How did you do that?"

"I… I don't know," I chuckle, shrugging as the rest of our family gathers. "I just let it happen."

"We're very proud of you, Madara," my dad says, low, deep, unexpected. But his gaze is warm.

"Not many people could have done what you just did," my mom says, and suddenly, she's hugging me. I hold onto her tightly, keep her close. When she pulls back, she still holds my arms. "You acted bravely, Madara."

"It was Naruto, Mom," I whisper gently. Instantly, she freezes, but I smile, blink past tears I hadn't realized were in my eyes. "He's in me. He saved me when I was going to lose control… All this time… I didn't know he was there… His spirit. Mom, please tell me about him."

She pauses, but now she's crying and smiling, too. She nods and embraces me again.

"Yes, Madara," she whispers. "I'll tell you everything."

I lift my gaze to the others. Suke stands by Naru, and I step forward to wrap him up gently, and he squeezes me as hard as his little arms can. I press my lips to his cheek, then whisper in his ear.

"You are so brave, Suke," I tell him softly. He inhales against me deeply, and suddenly he's weeping, and holding me even tighter. "It's okay, Suke. It's all over now."

"I've been so scared, Madara," he whispers. He's trembling terribly. "You finished it. The war's over because of you. It's finally over. And you're okay, and not sick anymore… Oh, thank you. Thank you."

"Hush, silly boy," I laugh, pull away to ruffle his hair. He smiles sheepishly and sniffles, and I can't help but hug him again. "I'm so glad you're safe."

"Me, too," he sighs, and we finally pull away. He returns to Naru's side, who immediately pulls him into his arms. There, Suke will find the comfort and light he needs.

Koto is here. We stare at each other for a long moment, but when he finally smiles, my grin breaks loose as well. We don't need to hug or touch each other to know, to understand what the other is thinking. He just tilts his head at me, and he abruptly looks like nothing but a young man. A handsome young man with a devilish smirk, fire in his eyes, and a love for me I've never known. He isn't a deadly warrior, a fierce prodigy, or one of Pain's Akatsuki angels. He's just my big brother.

"I knew you could do it," he says, his voice eased of the hardened pain that seemed so engrained in him not so long ago. It is a freer voice, a lighter one. As if it could float happily for miles and miles until it reached its own paradise. Whether that be in this peaceful rain or beneath an eternal sun, I have no mind to say. "You were always the special one."

"You're kidding right?" I laugh, to which he shrugs as if to say, _Well it's true_. I roll my eyes. "I don't think there's such a thing as 'the special one' in our family."

"I'll take that," he consents, nodding. And then his eyes find something over my shoulder.

I'm stalling, I know. I do and don't want to turn to him, but at this point, I have no choice. I called him to my side, and he came, and I can't possibly ignore him. Even with everyone here, my whole family watching. Especially with everyone here. The only thing that ever kept us apart was Pain. Pain was the one and only thing forbidding us to be together openly. And now that we're free…well…we're free.

So I turn to him, the last of them, and there he is, despite it all. Battered, bruised, and almost broken, he remains by my side. I breathe in. Try to smile, but I can't. His eyes are distant. Polite.

"Congratulations, Madara," Ryu says, almost tightly. And maybe it's because I flinch, or because he's tired of pretending too, or maybe it's because he can find pleasure in the rain for the first time as well. But his lips crack upward hesitantly, and he nods in way that's as much of a welcome as open arms and warm eyes. "You were beautiful."

I propel myself at him, and he catches me like he expected it, and holds me like he wants me, and some part of me, through my trembling and my shaky breathing, I know he's crying. His tears hit my hair as softly as the rain, but I know. From the way his body moves against mine, from the quiet sounds he gasps beneath his breath, from his fingers gripping my ribs.

"Hell, you scared me, Madara," he whispers, then pulls away abruptly and takes my head into his hands. His gaze is furious, fiery, and blue. "I love you, Madara. You hear me? I love you. Don't you do that shit again."

"Ryu… I love you too," I breathe, and press our lips together. Even with the rain, his battle wounds, my family, it's the most romantic thing I've ever experienced.

Especially with the rain.

* * *

><p>"I'd be of better use helping Tsuna and Naru and the others," my mom sighs, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Again. She crosses her arms. "You don't need me here."<p>

"Mom," I say lowly, in gentle warning. We're waiting. Standing at the walls of Ame, staring out at the fast-approaching armies. We already sent a runner to bring the news of our peace offering.

Even so, our fate is in Shikamaru's hands now. He may still decide we deserve punishment, and if so, he will completely demolish us. We don't have the strength or resources to fend off two incoming armies after our own civil war. A part of me isn't concerned, though. And that's partly because my mom is more annoyed than worried.

"Madara, I want to explain how things happened on my own terms," she says. When I look to her, her eyes are shut. "It's a long and terrible story, and you very well may hate me for it. I sure as hell do."

"I won't hate you, Mom," I assure her, taking her hand in mine. She lifts her gaze, and her jade eyes glow against her soft white skin. "I promise."

"Promises are hard to keep," she whispers, pained. I watch her. "They may take me before I can tell you, but know that I love you. And that there was always a reason."

"Mom?" She smiles sadly. She's accepted the fate I'm forcing her to face.

"I should have known this day would come," she tells me, then turns to look out to Konoha's army once more. They're closer. To our right, I think I see another army in the distance. Suna?

"I won't let them hurt you," I say, and I squeeze her hand. She squeezes back. We wait.

Koto stands close to Mom's other side, and though I wish he was closer to me, it means Ryu stands directly to my right. Where he belongs.

Seconds tick. Minutes pass. Moments fly.

A group of ninja have broken off from the rest, who are suddenly stationary. I inhale deeply, and watch the small party of shinobi shoot toward us at breakneck speed. They will be here soon. Am I ready for this? Did I do the right thing? Should we have run instead, like my parents had planned? It's too late to decide.

Shika stands on Ryu's other side. He is calm, as far as I can see. Will he ask his father for our pardon? Will he still help us? After all the pain we caused him?

The closer they get, the more distinct their features become. I can make out our runner, and all I can think is that I'm glad they didn't kill or capture him. I see the Hokage, but can't read his expression, and that man just by him is unmistakably Kakashi. When I hear my mother's sharp intake, I know she must see him as well. There are a few others I don't quite recognize, though my mom might. She squeezes my hand harder and harder.

When they come close enough, they slow, and they come toward us more leisurely, more clearly. I see ninja I remember from my interrogation room, and a couple that look vaguely familiar, that I might've caught a glimpse of during my time in Konoha. But there are two who stand out, only one of which I've actually seen before. Pale eyes, dark hair, and that damn posture, I'd recognize the Hyuga boy anywhere. Beside him, though, it a man still taller, still more beautiful, still more frightening I almost gulp. This must be his father. Shikamaru's friend.

They are close enough now.

They come to a stop, just a few feet away. A couple yards at the most.

They stare. We stare.

The Hokage steps forward with his eyes on her.

Everyone's eyes are on her.

"Sakura," he sighs, then frowns, as though he'd meant to say something else entirely. But he goes with it, my mother rigid as stone beside me. "How are you? I mean…how have you been?"

"You mean for the past twenty-seven years?" she breathes out. Like she can't believe. There's a tense pause, and then she exhales. "Alright. I've been…alright."

They stare at each other. Shikamaru's lips tip up, the same way Shika's do. My mom's hesitant smile surfaces. They chuckle, almost in unison. Then they laugh, and keep laughing. And then they step forward and embrace. They're crying, I think. Both of them. I take a look at some of the others. They are smiling…some are crying. Even the Hyuga man smiles, though his son, the one I fought, scowls miserably.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Shikamaru," my mother is gasping, past the laughter and the tears. She's pulling away, and now she addresses everyone. "I'm so sorry."

"You did what you thought you had to do, Sakura," Kakashi murmurs, and I see her lips tremble before she throws herself into his arms. He wraps her up like she's a child, and holds her tightly and whispers things I cannot hear. We wait patiently until they separate. When they do, Shikamaru turns to me.

"Chased off Pain, did we?" he chuckles, and I smile. Nod.

"We did, yes," I answer, and gesture to the fallen village behind us. "And now, I lay Ame at your mercy, Hokage."

"At my mercy?" Shikamaru repeats, taking me in. He holds up a hand to the elderly person behind him, who immediately bites back whatever he was about to say. The Hokage keeps his eyes on me. "This city houses the criminal organization Akatsuki that has terrorized these lands for generations. Your own father killed one of Konoha's most cherished shinobi, and has committed previous crimes against his family and village that are even more heinous, if not unspeakable. Your mother defected from Konoha, and in doing so, gave cause for many shinobi to die, to join Itachi Uchiha in his mission. They then came to Ame under loyalty of Pain, the man singularly responsible for this war, and helped him in fighting it. You, Madara Uchiha, are the Ten-Tailed Jinchuuriki, and in so being, the greatest weapon of destruction of all time. You have attacked our shinobi, destroyed parts of our village, and kidnapped my son to have him tortured. What do think about my mercy, Madara?"

I blink at him. Soak in his words. He watches me.

"_I _think," he sighs, and puts down his hand. "That it is time this war, and all this fighting…came to an end."

"I…" I glance at my mom, who is staring at Shikamaru, then my brother and Ryu for help. I look back to the Hokage warily. "I don't know what that means."

"It means we're done," Shikamaru says, his smile weary. And grateful. "I think we have _all_ suffered enough."

"Lord Hokage…" the elderly man begins again, but the robust, brown-haired ninja at Shikamaru's right shoots him a look.

"If that's what Shikamaru thinks is best, then that's how things go," he snaps, and the frail old man quiets. My mom looks stunned.

"Shikamaru…what do you mean?" she asks, sounding as breathless as I feel.

"It means the village of Ame is pardoned," he sighs. "As well as any of its inhabitants who will swear to peace."

"Everyone?" I gasp, and the rush that comes with the word is exhilarating.

"Everyone," he confirms, then tilts his head. "Though we should probably find Pain."

I grin. I am flying.

"I'm one step ahead of you."

* * *

><p>Our pardon, blessing that it is, is not without punishment. It's still to be discussed, the specifics, how everything will pan out in the long run, but it's pretty clear Ame will be on lockdown, and my family will be supervised for a while. Konoha's council members, for the most part, aren't happy with Shikamaru's decision. In fact, some of them are pretty pissed and hiss at him to try to persuade him.<p>

But Shikamaru is sticking to his choice. Execution, he assures us, is out of the question. Imprisonment, too, he says. Hopefully. Even for my father. The Hokage explains he is not all-powerful, but he will do what he can for Itachi.

Apparently, out of all our crimes against Konoha, his are the worst. Mom promises to explain later. I want to know now. But I'll wait. I have no choice. For now, Shikamaru has taken charge of Ame. So far, he's approved my commands, and simply enforces them with his own shinobi.

We sit inside our home—Akatsuki's headquarteres, they call it—where so much seems to be going on. They allow Naru and Tsuna to continue helping with everyone's wounds, but Koto and Suke are confined with me and mom and Ryu in here. He's sent teams after my dad and Kisame's party, to both assist taking Pain down and safely escort them back. Akatsuki were angels here…but they are wanted criminals everywhere else in the world.

I don't know how I feel about any of this, so I've pushed most of it out of thought for now, like how I usually do. I sit on the sofa by Ryu, and Suke is curled up, asleep, with Koto, who watches him with an expression I can't define. Like with me, Koto never spent much time with the twins either. He and Tsuna are close enough in age to know each other well, but Koto was made a part of Akatsuki at thirteen. When we three youngest were too little to remember much of him. My mom has made tea and is pouring some for everyone. I have never seen so many people in this sitting room before. Or so many people who know my mother.

There's Shikamaru and Kakashi, of course, who I've met, and seem the least bothered by all that's transpired. They are both very calm men, collected, reserved, and deceptively indifferent. But I understand the difference between nonchalance and a guise.

The Hyuga man is named Neji, and he is polite, stern, and impossible to read. His son still pouts, but has said nothing, and even declined a cup of tea. I wonder why his father hasn't inquired about me nearly blowing the kid sky high yet.

Choji is the big guy, and he seems happy with whatever Shikamaru decides is the right course of action. They're best friends, my mom explains quietly. She makes sure he has a nice assortment of snacks, which he munches on steadily as we sit.

There are two council members here, both elderly and stiff. They look very uncomfortable to be here in such a friendly, hostile-free atmosphere. I don't blame them really.

Shikamaru promised we'll be joined soon by others. He's sent runners to meet with Suna's approaching army, and Iwa's. Apparently, all the countries agreed to join forces and wipe Ame completely out. The Hokage is also searching for the other members of Akatsuki. I immediately think of the pretty blonde man and the funny masked boy. I know there are others, but those two and Kisame were always around. Kind of like family. Uncles I never had. I hope they're pardoned too.

"So, where to start?" Shikamaru sighs, blowing over the rim of his cup. The steam disperses for a moment, but quickly reforms.

Shika is here, too, looking through some of our books and scrolls. I was surprised at Shikamaru's reaction upon reuniting with his son. It was very small, subtle… He clasped him on the shoulder, exchanged a few words as they walked…and that was it. But both seem content now. And I let it be without inquiring.

"Lord Hokage, we should begin by composing this family's trials," one council member pipes, gesturing to the papers and books he's been holding onto since his arrival. Shikamaru sighs and quirks an eyebrow.

"Why don't you introduce us to your children, Sakura?" Kakashi suggests, and ignores the elders' protests with such ease, I'm genuinely impressed.

"Well…alright," she laughs, and it saddens me that she still sounds tired. As if she's…done. "This is Koto…our oldest. In return for his protection… Pain demanded Koto join Akatsuki when he was thirteen. He's…very brave, and has carried the burden of his parents' mistakes with the grace of someone well past his years. Um… This is Suke. He…the battles tire him easily. He was a frail child, and we don't think he'll ever grow much again. But he's the sweetest boy… His brother is Naru…his twin I mean. They aren't much alike, but they're inseparable. Naru's very passionate, the physical strength Suke doesn't possess. They share something special, being twins. Tsuna isn't here either. She's the…well, she's a character. A good medic, though, and very beautiful. And…well this is Madara, who you've met. As you know, she's quiet special."

"And dangerous," the council member pipes again. Kakashi whirls on him, and though I can't see the look he gives him from where I sit, I get chills. The council member swallows.

"We understand you and your colleague have some very well thought out, significant opinions, but at the moment, on behalf of everyone else in this room, I'm politely telling you to keep your mouth shut," he chirps, as cheerfully as if asking for a glass of water. "Thanks. Go on, Sakura."

"Well…" My mother still looks uncomfortable, if not more so than before. She looks at us, her children, not knowing what or how much to say. She's still in a daze. "Uh, this is Ryu. He isn't my son, but his family is quite close to ours. They helped in rebelling against Pain as well."

Shikamaru is watching us. Ryu and I. It only takes me a moment to realize why, and when I do, I blush bright red. How embarrassing.

"You and Ryu are close, Madara?" he questions, and though my face is still hot, I nod. And clear my throat.

"Yes," I say, and say it before I can stop myself, "He's my fiancé."

Everyone stills. Even Shika looks up. Even Koto. He looks so surprised, it confuses me. Didn't he know? It was taboo to talk about…it's just strange being able to say it. Being able to hear it. I turn to look up at Ryu. He, too, didn't see it coming. But his eyes are warmer than they were.

"I see," Shikamaru comments, looking neither irritated or disheartened like I expected. Merely observational, if not mildly surprised. There's an abrupt knock, military-like, and then the door is swinging open to reveal a man I recognize.

He has unruly brown hair, memorable markings on his face, and sharp eyes that pass over the room as though he wishes he could kill every single one of us. His eyes find mine briefly, and in them I see not only a challenge, but a threat as well. The council members aren't the only ones who think Shikamaru made the wrong call. He's one of the men who interrogated me. The loud one.

"Kiba?" Shikamaru questions, dragging the ninja's attention from me to his Hokage.

"We have three of the Akatsuki members in captivity," Kiba announces, and there is something unnervingly smug about what he says. "There was some resistance, so we had to use force. There have been a few injuries on both sides."

"You promised there would be no violence," my mother says, more confused than anything else. Kiba scoffs, hardly acknowledging her.

"They fought back," Kiba explains hotly, each "t" and "k" a sharp crack against our ears. He turns and meets my mother's eyes, and he has the balls to smile. "We had no choice."

As soon as I'm on my feet, everyone in the room is moving. Ryu and Sakura are rising to hold me back, Kiba is drawing a weapon, and the rest of Shikamaru's guard is following suit. Preparing to contain me. I heed the hands keeping me in place, and neither Kiba or I move. I resist the swelling urge to gnash my teeth at him.

"Did you hurt my father?" I growl, and even as I will my fury to subside, I feel my throat tighten and my heart quicken. Kiba sneers—he has fangs, too. More dog-like than mine.

"No more than he deserved," he taunts.

He expects me to attack. He's baiting me. Seconds pass, and he continues to wait for me to snap. But slowly, I find my calm. I lift my chin and loosen the tension in my shoulders. And I smile back at the bastard. I'll wait.

"Shikamaru, you said he'd be pardoned," Sakura says, letting go of me to face the Hokage. Ryu pulls me closer.

"I will go speak with those they've gathered," he assures her warily, pushing himself up. "I'll make sure they receive medical attention and an ear to hear their side of the story. We'll leave you with your family for now. In private."

The last part he directs at the two council members, and then he passes a warning glance at Kiba. I can't see Shikamaru's face as he moves for the door, but I take pleasure in the strain of Kiba's jaw. There's a general reluctance, but eventually, they all begin to file out. The room grows as unfamiliar faces disappear, one-by-one, and my chest burns a little as Shika departs without a glance in my direction.

The last to go is Kakashi, who lingers by the door with my mother. No one else seems to pay attention. Ryu has begun to pace, and Koto rises to get tea for Suke, who has just now woken. But I perk my ears and watch as Kakashi and my mom embrace.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers, and he brushes her hair affectionately with his fingers as he holds her. "So, so sorry… I never meant for any of it to turn out the way it did."

"I know," he murmurs back, his one eye tortured. Full of relief, pain, and memories. "You did what you felt you had to. Not everything was your fault."

"Yes, it was," she cries softly, holding on tight to him. He allows her to. It looks like he wants to hold her tighter too. "Everything I've done is wrong… I ruined everything…"

"Not everything," he says, pulling away to grip her shoulders gently. "I have not met all of your children. But one of them is rather special."

"She has no idea," she gasps. If not for my enhanced hearing, I doubt I'd be able to hear. It doesn't seem anyone else is listening, either. "All the awful things I did…that we did… She doesn't know."

"I know," he answers, giving her a long, steady look. "But she will love you regardless. You need to tell her, Sakura. And I need to go."

"Alright…" she sighs, straightening herself and shaking her head gently. They give each other soft smiles before Kakashi moves away, out the door. My mom calls out to him. "Kakashi!"

He pauses. Peers over his shoulder and waits. I feel my mother's nerve falter. But she speaks up.

"Did you get to say goodbye?"

Something changes in Kakashi's eye. I have no clue what might be running through his mind. But something about it makes my bones cold and numb.

"No," he answers. Then before she can react, he shuts the door.

She waits before turning. To gather herself, perhaps. When she finally does, her eyes find mine. Like she knew I was standing here all along.

* * *

><p><strong>You have my most sincerest of apologies for delaying this update. But, as always, I have an excuse. This time, it was because I lost a good chunk of this chapter (and it was the middle chunk too, so I couldn't just start over, you know?) in my notebooks that I took home over winter break. And couldn't find them in my dorm. Because they were at my house. Since there was no way for me to go home at all this semester (for real, at all), I decided to just wait until summer break. Which has come. Which is why I'm posting. Because I found the correct notebooks. :D <strong>

**I hope I didn't disappoint in this chapter. There were so many ways I could have taken this story at this spot in the action, but this is ultimately where I chose to take it. Don't worry-it isn't going to be all rainbows and sunshine or anything. There's still much to unfold, and I'm willing to promise another...four chapters, perhaps? Before the end, that is. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. **

**As for the Ten-Tailed Demon... I couldn't really nail its "animal". Um... I dislike the way it looks in the anime/manga, so since this story is absolutely nothing at all like the anime/manga, I decided to apply a little bit of creative freedom. I sort of pictured him as a...wolf/dragon.../dinosaur? o.O I wish I could draw. Because I'd draw him, so you could all see him. But the description Madara gave you was the best I could manage. Lo siento. **

**Anywho, my apologies for the delay. I got a few peeved remarks about what a crappy updater I am. I know. You don't have to say it. :( **

**But I got all As this semester. :D Ending first semseter of college with a cumulative 3.68 GPA. (That damn C+ in physics screwed me over...) **

**And just saying. The next chapter is already written. I figured I could write it even if I couldn't post yet. :) **

**AnimeCountDown**


	12. Madara Uchiha

"There are many things I have kept from you and your siblings," she begins, and I nod, patiently. Her exposition is a mere stalling tactic, but I can spare her the time she needs to reveal the ghosts and skeletons of her past. "Things I thought I left behind long ago… Things I haven't had to think about since we came to Amegakure."

She waits another moment, her eyes anywhere but me. We've been quarantined to this room for the time being, but we've asked the others to give us some time, and isolated ourselves to a corner apart from them. Koto seemed to understand, Suke only looked concerned, and Ryu was as blank-faced as ever. We have never played the couple. I imagine our relationship will simply go back to how it used to be now. My attention returns abruptly to my mom when her hand grips my knee. I lift my gaze to her vivid blue-green eyes. I envy that beautiful color. Only Tsuna shares it with her.

"Before anything, know that I am sorry," she whispers, voice filled with the refusal to cry. "Sorry for what I've done, sorry for keeping it from you, and sorry for who you call your mother."

"Mom." My voice is hard and soft. Like water. Like fire. "I'm ready to hear this."

"I know you are," she murmurs with a smile. "But I don't think I'll ever be. I've…never really said it all out loud. It's only floated around in my head like a never-ending nightmare."

When she hesitates, I can only wait.

"Many years ago, the Uchiha clan flourished in Konoha," she begins, very slowly, as though she's not sure where to begin, if she's doing it right. "They were a strong, highly influential clan in the city. There were…many Uchiha men and women then…"

"But not anymore?" I ask, stating the obvious in hopes it may give her something to hold onto. Something to further the conversation.

"No," she says quickly, the word a rush of breath. Her fingers twitch in her lap. Her next words halt, and she changes course. "When I first became a genin, I had a three-cell team like everyone else. You met our sensei, Kakashi Hatake. I told you about him before. A good man… My first teammate was a boy named Naruto Uzumaki. Your visit to Konoha has seemed to enlighten you to his existence… He was a wonderful boy…and an even more amazing man. He was a Jinchuuriki, like you, of the Nine-Tailed Fox. He was such a strong person, full of light and love and forgiveness-"

Her words are cut off by a breathy sob. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and then continues.

"My other teammate was the man you mentioned earlier. Sasuke. In the beginning, he was amazing, too. Full of drive, and talent. And very beautiful… But where Naruto was full of light, Sasuke…he was much darker. And he became more and more consumed with that darkness as he grew older."

"What about him, though?" I sigh, rubbing my temple briefly, trying to look her in the eye, but she won't. "Why is he so special that he keeps popping up everywhere?"

"He was your uncle, Madara," she says. I blink at her, jaw loose. "Or he would have been. Sasuke was your father's younger brother… Sasuke Uchiha."

The name hits me like a brick, so mercilessly, all I see for a moment is black. And I see him, and his eerily familiar face, and while I know it's Naruto's memory of him flashing through my mind, it feels so much like my own. The news that my father had a sibling should not be so bizarre. But it is. He's never even mentioned him. Like how my mom never mentioned Naruto.

"Madara," she whispers, and I focus on her, still dazed, as she says what I've been begging her to admit. "Sasuke is dead."

"Why…?" I muttered, but the words I once had are gone. Muffled by a certain kind of shock. All I can muster are syllables. "How…?"

"I killed him," she breathes. I stare at her. "I killed them both."

* * *

><p>The story begins so simply. My mom, a naïve child in love with the village's typical mysterious prodigy bad boy. The outcast in love with her, a beautiful, fiery little girl. And an incomplete triangle, because the lonely boy couldn't love anyone. Naruto's words echo in my mind as my mother tells me of Sasuke's inability to love at all.<p>

_I think… Sasuke loved his brother._

Because that's when the story becomes too much for me to comprehend. Too much for me to stomach. I have to ask her to stop many times before I'm ready to move on, and occasionally, she needs to repeat herself in order for me to fully understand some of the things she's telling me. There are just parts that don't make sense. Parts that are impossible to process, numb as I am. Like Sasuke leaving his city, his home for a chance for revenge. Like my mom letting him make her think she had to do the exact same thing.

Like…my father.

Murdering everyone.

"My story isn't complete unless I tell you his, too," she's saying. It's impressive how, still, she doesn't cry. Even though she wants to. "I'm sorry he can't tell you himself."

"Why?" I ask. She watches me before answering. "Why did he do it?"

"I…don't really know, to be honest," she sighs. This conversation has aged her, in just the hour or so we've been talking. I see the weariness marking her eyes, affecting her posture. "He said once, when we first came together, it was because he wanted to give his clan a fresh start… But when I try to get him to talk about it…he won't always speak forwardly. He'll talk in circles, be vague, avoid my more direct questions with abstract answers… So, no… I suppose he's never wanted me to know the real reasons. But I know he was unhappy. With the expectations that come with being an Uchiha, I think."

"So." I sit back, not really looking at anything, not even really thinking anything. I want to say, ask, scream so many things, and yet the first thing that comes to me is, "There's… Naru and Suke. For Naruto and Sasuke. Tsuna, for your mentor Tsunade. What about me? What about Koto?"

The story won't be complete with knowing.

"Mikoto was the name of Itachi's mother," she answers carefully.

"The one he killed," I clarify, meeting her gaze. She watches me warily, but nods. I press my lips together, trembling. "And me? Who am I? Who in your twisted life did you replace with _me?_"

"We're not replacing anyone," she says, suddenly stern. "We're honoring them in the only way we know."

I glare at her through a flurry of hot tears.

"I don't know," she tells me, softening her expression and shaking her head. "We took turns. Your father named you. And he's never told me who for."

"A secret even you don't know," I scoff quietly. She frowns at me, brows creased, eyes glistening.

"I won't ask for forgiveness," she murmurs, and I can tell. She's done.

Maybe that's what compels me to lie.

"He hates you," I hiss, leaning forward, baring my teeth. She flinches back, bewildered.

"Madara… What-?" No. My turn.

"He's in my head, you know. Like I said," I snarl, tapping my head with my palm. "Yep. Naruto? I can talk to him. See his ghost, use his chakra. And he hates you for what you did."

"You…" She's gaping at me. "You can…talk to him?"

"Whenever I want," I breathe, grinning as wide as I can. "And he can't stand you."

Finally. She begins to cry.

* * *

><p>I decide to spend the rest of our wait with the Ten-Tailed Demon. Since I've finally become one with him and used his power like my own, visiting him is the least I can do.<p>

Inside me is a lot different than it used to be. Rather than a dank, damp cave lit dimly by torchlight, I stand in a brilliant hall, still primal, but illuminated by enormous bonfires, crackling happily as they dine on their kindling. The Ten-Tails is curled contently near the largest of them, and for the first time, I really get a good look at him. Still, he is a magnificent wonder, impossible to describe adequately with words. Canine in shape, but longer and leaner, with serpentine eyes, scales beneath dense black fur, and bones jutting out sharply in places where they shouldn't. Not to mention his impossible size.

He's gazing at me calmly from his place, nestled comfortably within the curl of his own limbs. He blinks at me as I approach, tails swishing about him carefully, easily reminiscent of a purring cat or sleeping dog. But the intelligence that resides in those monstrous yellow eyes is far beyond that of any mere beast. Before me lies the wisest of all creatures. Like usual, I plop myself casually beside him, but strangely enough, I do not feel his chakra pour over me in tempting, delicious waves as it normally does. Twisting my lips, I peer up at him, in wonder at this new sensation, or perhaps lack of. Once, the Ten-Tails overwhelmed me with his presence alone. Now, I rest at ease not but a few feet from him. Comfortable. Content. Just like he is. And I realize as we sit, watching each other, that it is because we are now equal.

Just as before, when I took his form in battle, we are one being even now. Our merging is permanent, not a switch that I can turn on and off during my times of need. My body is available for him to consume now that I've submitted to him, but his chakra is as much my own as it is his.

"Little Madara," he finally greets, voice vibrating everything around us. "You are looking well."

"Oh?" I scoff, quirking an eyebrow skeptically. "Thanks, I guess. I don't exactly feel great."

"Not even with my chakra?" he breathes, obviously not taking my word for it. I roll my eyes.

"Well, physically, I'm fine, I guess…" I consent, and shake my head. "But even if I do feel stronger than I ever have before, I'm completely lost. Did… Did you know all those things? About my family? My father and what he did?"

"I know many things about your family, Little Madara," he answers, iridescent eyes laughing quietly at my distress. I frown at him.

"Why? Why did my father…?" I can't get my words out straight. I can hardly wrap my brain around everything that's come to light. "How could he just…kill everyone he knew? His friends…his neighbors…his own parents…"

"You could ask him," he suggests, and something about the smug, amused way he says it pisses me off.

"Well now he's in captivity, so that's not very helpful," I snap. This only makes him chuckle.

"You are my Jinchuuriki," he reminds me. "You would let a man keep your father in chains when you could tear that man to shreds?"

"I'm not just going to go berserk every time something happens that I don't like."

"And why not?" he inquires, hardly sounding curious. He's just poking fun at me now. "It hasn't stopped humankind before."

"I don't give a shit about humankind," I mutter, crossing my arms and pursing my lips. "Why bother? Humanity is all a lie anyway."

His face suddenly inches up close to mine, and I can't help but instinctively shrink back. Nearly all of my line of sight is consumed by just one of his eyes. It stares me down, blinks once, and then he grins. I hear his skin and muscles fold back, his teeth click together. I hear his tongue rub raw against the roof of his mouth. I glare at him uncertainly.

"Would you rather be a demon, then?" he proposes. Ah, a test.

"Right," I deadpan. "That sounds so much more delightful."

This makes him throw back his massive head and roar with laughter. It's a strange sound, something as close to a melodious snarl as there might be. After a moment, a small smile breaks out on my face. Some demon I'd be. I wait until he calms and quiets, and I blink in surprise as he settles down again, this time curling happily around me. I let him. The feeling, if nothing else, is familiar, and welcome.

"What does it mean?" I sigh, leaning back into his body, sinking into his thick fur, letting it cushion me like a blanket. "Just tell me that."

"You ask questions with answers that do not matter," is his response, slow and wise and cruel.

"But it matters to me!" I yell, but his unfazed gaze silences my outburst. "Just answer me. Please."

"Your mother failed to tell you everything," he growls. "I cannot explain the past until you have learned all of it."

"She kept more shit from me?" I exclaim, gaping in disbelief. Rage boils in the pit of my stomach.

"She does not know the rest, Little Madara," he replies. My mouth opens and closes.

"Well you tell me then!" I demand, pushing myself to my feet. I glower at him, but there's no breaking his steady, watchful silence. He's not budging. I huff, throwing my hands in the air. "What else could there possibly be?"

"Only three of the people in your life might know," he says, still slowly. As if choosing his words very carefully. "Two of them carry your name."

"Why the hell are you being so damn cryptic?" I snap, whirling from him and storming away. "It's getting really annoying."

"I am not welcome in some human matters," he answers, and something about the way he says it makes me pause. I glance over my shoulder. He blinks, indifferent…

"You said…two of my family members know?" I ask cautiously. He gives me one, firm nod, but does not speak. And I realize why he does not give me the answers I seek.

Because I don't think he can.

* * *

><p>"Madara, will you come with me?"<p>

I open my eyes, meeting the gaze of the big guy from before. The cheeky, robust name named Choji, who is supposed to be Shikamaru's best friend. He's standing at the doorway, staring straight at me. Behind him, in the hall, I see two more shinobi. That Kiba guy. And the older Hyuga man, Neji. Everyone is watching me. I don't move.

"Choji…why?" my mom asks, stepping forward. "Shikamaru said there'd be no hostility."

"Don't worry," Choji answers, but he can't meet her gaze. Because of what she's done in the past or because he's lying now, I can't tell. "I'm sure he'll keep his promise."

"It's fine," I say before she can argue. I'm already standing as she looks to me hesitantly, fearful of my anger, or irrationality. I walk forward, chin up, like it should be, and stop in front of them. "They can't hurt me. Can you?"

"That a threat?" Kiba snarls, hands itching at his sides.

"It's a fact," I reply. I turn my attention back to Choji. "But I want my brother to come with me."

"Your…which one?" he asks, looking confused, though Kiba seems suspicious enough for the both of them.

"Koto," I answer, crossing my arms. "I'd like him to come with me. If he can't, I'm not moving either."

"Might I remind you we've been told to use force if necessary?" Kiba growls, the right corner of his mouth twitching up.

"Kiba, stop it," my mom retorts, whirling on him, eyes icing over. "I understand you hate me, and I can live with that, but Madara has nothing to do with this."

"Shut up," Kiba hisses, lips curling back to show his pointed, ugly teeth. "It's true, isn't it? Naruto loved you, adored you, not even when you didn't give up on that bastard Sasuke. Even when you couldn't spare him the time of day. He _loved _you. And you disappeared. You say you loved him, but did you even care?"

"Of course I did!" she yells, but he's already yelling back.

"But you always cared about Sasuke more!" he shouted. He shakes his head in disgust. "And then you cared about his _brother_."

"Enough," the Hyuga commands, his voice authoritative enough to make Kiba bite back his next words. He and my mother glare at each other. "Sakura, no one cares if you're sorry. Kiba, no one cares if you're angry. What happened is done and now is not the time. Madara can bring her brother with her. Shikamaru just wants to talk to her anyway. Everything doesn't have to be a challenge or threat. The war is over."

I can see, now, how the Hyuga family developed as powerful a name as the Uchiha. I couldn't see it in his son, but this man holds the same strength my father and brother often exude. But while my family is all fire and darkness, this man is grace and dignity. It's no wonder my clan teeters on the brink of extinction while theirs still flourishes.

"Alright," I consent, and glance backward, but Koto is already there. He nods to me and I smile. I turn back. "I'll go."

* * *

><p>Choji leads the way, with Neji and Kiba taking the rear. I'm most comfortable with the Hyuga keeping an eye on everyone. I briefly remember the boy who sniffed me out when I tried to infiltrate Konoha. I manipulated him and left him unconscious Shikamaru's backyard. I wonder if he was related to Kiba.<p>

"So why'd you insist on dragging me along?" Koto asks from my side, pulling me back to the present.

"Now probably isn't the time," I murmur under my breath. "I just need to ask you some things."

"About Dad?" he guesses, keeping his voice low like mine. I nod, and he sighs. "Whatever you want to know, I'm sure Mom told you already."

"There are things she doesn't know," I reply. "And I want to figure out what they are."

"Why do you think that?" Koto asks, frowning at me, but I see the wheels turning in his head as I glance at him. "Dad wouldn't tell her all of that only to keep something else from her. Why keep a lie after that?"

"Wait- you don't know what it is?" I breathe, almost stopping mid-stride, but Koto takes me by the arm and keeps me moving, glancing over his shoulder warily at Kiba.

"If anyone knows more about the subject, it's her, not me," Koto hisses. "I only know what Mom and some of the members of Akatsuki have said. Dad never actually talked to me about it, but they've spent decades together."

"But…" I mutter, letting Koto keep his grip on my arm. Inside me, I feel the Ten-Tailed Demon purr within my mind. Two of my family members? "Who else…?"

If not Koto?

"The Hokage is inside," Choji says, motioning to a door not far from us. As we stop, he turns to us solemnly. "You'll be left alone, as he requested, but there will be a guard stationed outside."

"No one will need your guard," Koto replies, not heatedly, but firmly. It's something I would have said myself if I wasn't still reeling.

"Just letting you know," Choji mutters, and opens the door to motion us through.

Inside, we find a less lavish room than the family area my family is being held in. We're on a floor of the manor I've never been to-some spaces were off limits to us, even to mother. Just as some rooms-and entire floor-was reserved solely for us Uchihas. This room is small, like a kind of office. There's a desk and a bookshelf, but the only two people here are sitting across from each other, on benches placed before the desk.

"Dad!" I exclaim softly, rushing to be at his side. He looks up at me with a weary smile in his eyes, and I am reminded abruptly of how old he's getting. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he assures me, his velvet voice as comforting as I've ever found it. He doesn't look injured, so I let it slide for now.

"Kiba said you resisted," I explain hurriedly. "We were worried he'd overreacted."

"We only tried to explain our mission to him first," he says, addressing the Hokage, who sits across from us. "Inuzukas are generally short-tempered, as I remember. He attacked us and brought us back without even finishing the search for Pain."

"It may be a mistake to let someone so passionate about these issues be involved," the Hokage consents. "But, since everyone else has been so passive, I think a little aggression balances the scales."

"If he wants punishment," my father says, sitting upright. I notice the bonds on his hands for the first time. "Then put it on me."

"That's rather noble," Shikamaru notes, either sarcastically or warily, I'm not sure. My dad shrugs.

"I killed Naruto," he says, so simply, with such detachment, I feel myself draw away from him. "Of all my crimes, that is the only one he wants justice for."

"Perhaps," the Hokage agrees. "But there are other crimes the rest of the city will not forget."

"Who's left to remember?" he questions. "I was a boy then. The world I wrecked is already buried."

"We still have our elders," Shikamaru counters. "Our council. You wrecked more than one life or generation."

"Then kill me," my father whispers, completely unafraid. "If that is your justice, let me have it."

"Stop it!" I snap, looking from one man to the other. "Why is everyone being so dramatic about this?"

"Perhaps if you knew, Madara-" Shikamaru begins.

"I do know," I interrupt, and meet my father's gaze as he turns questioning eyes on me. "Mom told me… I just want to know why you did it."

"An interesting side of the story," Shikamaru murmurs. "One I don't think we've ever had on record, in all this time. I believe I'd like to know why you did it as well."

"And I," Koto says softly, arms crossed where he stands close to the doorway. "I always have."

My father is silent. With the eyes of his oldest and youngest firmly on him, as the Hokage of the land he betrayed and abandoned considers his verdict…my father says nothing. He passes his quiet , dark gaze over the three of us, then fixates his eyes on a spot far up on the wall across from him. In thought. It is not until Shikamaru inhales, ready to urge him, that my father speaks.

"If you would allow my children a moment with their father," he says softly, lowering his eyes to Shikamaru's. "I would appreciate it."

"Sure," Shikamaru sighs, suddenly the lazy man I first saw with his feet propped up on his own desk. He yawns, stands, and removes himself without further complaint. Koto and I stare after him for a few moments, stunned.

"They're so…" I say, squinting my eyes as I try to summon the right word. "Calm."

"They?" my dad inquires, and I look at him.

"Shika and his dad," I answer, and my father nods. "I met Shika in Konoha… He's nice."

"Nicer than Ryu?" he pokes, and I'm unsure if he's sincere or if he's only teasing. I blush regardless, but I answer seriously.

"In some ways," I admit. "And in other ways, no. I still love Ryu in a way I can love no one else."

"As I love your mother," he murmurs, frowning gently. "I believe she was the first thing I ever loved at all."

"What about your family?" Koto asks quietly.

"Your brother…?" I add. He smiles, faint and slow.

"My brother…" Itachi murmurs. And then it comes. "I tried to give him what he wanted."

"But," I splutter, "You killed him."

"After a time, I realized there was no way I could allow him to live," he says, and I can tell, he knows exactly what he's talking about, even if it's gibberish to me and Koto. "So I had to let him go. I couldn't keep waiting for him to prove me wrong."

"Please, Dad…" I plead, "Start from the beginning."

"When I was young, I hated everything about my family," he begins. "The Uchiha? They claimed they stood for honor and justice, but it was all for show. They only truly cared about their power. About having the upper hand not only over their enemies, but their allies as well. Simply because. And they tried to instill all their ideas in me as well. I was their prodigy. Their puppet. They saw the strength I had and tried to make it their own. I was deprived of any childhood or affection. My life was strategy, warfare, and training from day one. They never asked me if I wanted to be shinobi. They made me believe there was nothing else. That in order to be a true Uchiha, I had to shut down. Turn off what made me human in order to complete my missions and achieve my full potential.

"That was their downfall. As they erased my ability to feel remorse, empathy, and mercy for my targets, they unknowingly scratched out any personal emotional ties to my clan as well. What was loyalty anymore? Family? They were full of their rage and hunger for more power. But my mind was clear. I am not a prodigy only for my skills as a shinobi, but for my intelligence as well, and without my emotions hindering me, I could see the big picture they were blind to. They wanted to overtake Konoha. I wanted to leave it. To exist for a greater purpose. To create something stronger, in more ways than one. Slowly, the idea grew in my mind. They didn't realize that in order to accomplish all their grand schemes, to become as powerful as they wished, they had to start over. We had to start over from scratch."

"So you killed them all?" I choke, but Koto waves my horror aside as he sits across from us.

"They were planning a coup?" he asks, and I blink. He _did _mention something like that, didn't he? If the Uchiha wanted to overcome Konoha…didn't my father do them a favor?

"They were," he answers. "And expected me to lead it. To live like that all my life. Until I died… But I met a man who had better plans. Who could give me what I knew we truly needed."

"Who?" Koto and I breathe in unison. My father looks right at me.

"Madara Uchiha."

* * *

><p><strong>Hello, lovelies. Here is Chapter 12. A little disappointed with the lack of enthusiasm after I posted Chapter 11, but I suppose I deserve it after not posting for so long. I understand. Anywho, I'm kind of wrapping up the storyline and all the missing pieces. I hope you weren't too bored with this chapter. Lots of talking, and I'm afraid there will be much dialogue in the next chapter too. It's just kind of necessary. Shikamaru just can't clap his hands and everyone's cool with letting the Uchihas walk free, you know? Anyway, I'd love some feedback. Thanks. :)<strong>

**AnimeCountDown**


	13. Five Voices

My father's mouth is moving, but I cannot hear anything he's saying. Even as I try to focus, strain my ears, beg them to listen, all they pick up is the screaming chant stuck firmly in my brain: _I DON'T UNDERSTAND_. My brothers were named after my mother's team, my father's mother. My sister after the Fifth Hokage. Me?

A murderer.

I don't realize I've stood until I've blacked out and collapsed back on the floor. Sound and light flashes in broken fragments, in and out of my consciousness. Hands are clawing at my arms from either side, and I push them away in a state of deliriousness, the kind that makes the air feel like honey. I want to scramble to my feet, escape those hands, get away, but the world is much too heavy and my newfound strength is failing me already.

"Madara?" I can't tell who's saying it. If sounds could look like anything, they'd all just be a fuzzy blur. But every syllable, every letter of my name stands out from the rest like a burst of white hot light. "Madara."

"No," I breathe, still slapping weakly at the hands, trying to get them to just leave me be. "Don't call me that. Don't… Don't call me that."

A sudden quiet as my vision begins to clear takes me, the hiss of whispers far over my head. I'm sitting upright, on the floor of the office, held up by my brother and father. The former sits to the right of me, my father to the left. I do not know what they're saying, if it's about me or between themselves. Koto and my dad have never gotten along.

Maybe now I know why. After all, Koto already knew what my father had done. He's known perhaps since I've been born. And Koto's persistent disapproval of everything my father does makes sense now. I have rarely seen them interact. Once, many years ago, and over today's crazy course of events. But in just those few memories, Koto's made it clear he distrusts Itachi.

I cannot believe today began with my mother freeing me from that hospital. It seems like it's been so long since that moment. All of it has happened so fast. In less than twenty-four hours, I escaped my prison, was reunited with a family I've never seen all together before, infiltrated Pain's mansion, lost my eye, met a dead man, became one with the Ten-Tailed Demon, ended a near-two-decade-long war, and learned my father committed genocide. With a man he named me after.

"Madara…"

I turn to look at my father. His black, black eyes stare back, and seeing what I do within them, I finally understand. My mom used to try to explain the distant, desensitized look that resides like a malicious host in my dad's eyes. _He's seen many things as a shinobi. He's a soldier, and it's changed him. Sometimes Daddy just needs a moment to forget._ Now, I fully comprehend what it is he looks at me with. What he looks at the world with.

No guilt. No shame. No anger. Perhaps a bitter knowledge that he could never have lived his life any differently. An omniscient knowing that he would not change his past even if given the magic to do so. He looks through the eyes of a man understood by no one.

"Why?" I whisper, feeling abruptly as though I might cry. But Koto is here, and I can't cry. "Why did you name me this? Of all the names? Why _this one_?"

"Madara changed my life," he tells me, quietly, but not quite softly. "He gave me purpose, strength, and hope. I knew…or perhaps, I only wished that you might do the same for the world."

"Did you know?" I breathe, finding it harder and harder to get my lungs to cooperate as my mind whirls with panicked questions. "Did you know what Pain was planning to do? _Did you know _I would become a Jinchuuriki?"

"I knew Pain wished to become the Ten-Tail's Jinchuuriki," he admits, nodding slowly. With every bob of his head, my heart constricts. "Diverting the direction of the jutsu was Madara's doing. It was his idea, his plan, his ninjutsu that placed the demon in you instead of Pain."

I gape at him, unable to control the furious, hot bubbling in my stomach. Koto is very still beside me, silent. I am trembling.

"And you let it happen?" I hiss through my teeth.

"For two reasons," he answers, as velvet smooth, calm and collected as he always is. "Yes, I did."

"Tell me why," I growl, my tears so close to coming, they burn the insides of my eyeballs. "You tell me why right now."

"Because if I hadn't, you would have died," he says, not breaking his rhythm at all. Something in me calms, if only just a little. "Suke was so frail when he was born, I believed Sakura's next child might be the same, if not worse."

"To save my life," I murmur to myself. "Why else?"

"To keep Pain from gaining the power he sought," he answers. "To keep him from ripping apart the world."

"He's done that anyway," I argue, a little bitterly, but my father shakes his head.

"Given the power you possess now, Pain would have destroyed everything," he explains. "Not simply declared war as he did. The Konoha you saw? He would have made it as bleak and miserable as the Rain. If he'd decided to let it continue existing."

"Why not just kill him?" Koto asks, and I cannot tell if he is still in disbelief or if he is now angry. "You're strong enough to wipe out the most powerful clan in history."

"Pain is a formidable enemy," he says, gaze flicking sideways once, for the first time breaking eye contact with us. "If he had known to count me as an enemy, I would likely be dead."

"You've been working against Pain this whole time?" I finally piece together, but it sounds more bewildering out loud than it does in my head. I recall suddenly what my father said this morning.

_This war is not about what I would rather._

"Go back to the beginning," I request. "When you met…Madara."

"He came to me first in a dream," he says, eyes sinking further into his memories. "When I was still very young, he appeared in my sleep. His Sharingan can control many things the clan had either forgotten or buried long ago. He told me who he was, and that he recognized my distaste for the life of the Uchiha, as it had happened to him many years ago. Madara Uchiha was the first of our clan to reside in Konoha.

"His anger was different from mine, he said. He held a grudge. Against the clan for forcing him into a life he did not want. He wanted revenge against them, and I wanted to get out. So he proposed an extermination. Start over. Re-create the most powerful clan in history. Give us another chance to flourish. You see, Madara has lived many years, and by this time could not repopulate on his own. So he suggested I take up the task."

"You agreed?" I conclude, and he is no longer looking at us as he speaks.

"I deliberated for a long time," he murmurs. "For nearly a year, I could not give Madara his answer. I watched my family. Listened. Eventually, I knew I was only denying it. I saw the wisdom in Madara's plan. Without my emotions, it was the most logical solution to the problems my family had unknowingly planted and let blossom. I told him I would accept his offer, and we developed a plan together. Madara would create a minor distraction outside the city, while I began the work. Afterward, I would flee, and find the group Madara told me to watch in exchange for his assistance. Akatsuki. I did not ask him why he wanted to keep an eye on this particular organization, but I agreed. Living as an Akatsuki member, even if it was only a mask, gave me freedom. It gave me a reprieve from all the senseless struggles of weaker minded men. It left only the case of my younger brother to be decided."

"You killed Sasuke, though," I interrupt, "In the end… Why did you let him live that day?"

"I pitied my brother," he says. "If I felt anything for anyone…it was sympathy for Sasuke. He was so young, so innocent, always seeking attention and approval from others. To leave the shadow I unwillingly cast on him. I had no desire to reproduce. I was thirteen, when I committed my crime, and could not imagine how I might have children, or a lover, in my position with Akatsuki. So I kept my brother alive partly as a gift, so he might became a kind of hero for Konoha. A pointless achievement in my eyes, but a beautiful one for a boy like him. And partly to fulfill my own goals, of course… And perhaps Sasuke could have done all that. But he let tragedy consume his life, and his mind. Other factors, other players in this stupid game affected Sasuke during his growth. I am not entirely to blame for what happened to Sasuke. There were others…far darker, more sinister than I, who fed his anger and hatred. Who smothered what chance of happiness I had left behind for him… Eventually, his efforts to avenge his family began to interfere with my ability to watch Akatsuki without rising suspicion, and Madara bid I kill him, and restore the clan on my own."

"So you did," Koto finished quietly.

"I never loved my brother," he concludes, as if it justifies Sasuke's death. "When I met your mother, she offered me what I needed. Two birds with one stone. And somehow, along the way, she made me love her… My brother was foolish for choosing the path he did. He could have had Sakura himself, so easily, could have had his own children to cherish one day. Instead, he became cruel and malicious. Lost. He was not strong enough to overcome even himself."

"Did you do it on purpose?" I ask quietly, as a morbid thought crosses my mind. He meets my gaze.

"Do what?"

"Name Naru and Suke that way," I go on, not bothered by how he might anger. "Because Naruto was the strong, and Sasuke the weak?"

"You'd have to ask your mother," he replies. "She gave them their names."

Mother. The cruel things I said to her. I frown, looking down at the floor and remembering the awful lies I said about Naruto. Does he know what I said? Can he hear all this, from wherever he is inside me? I poke at the necklace around my throat, just to touch it, to feel that familiar thrum of energy. I was just so angry at her… I wanted to make her hurt like she's made me hurt. Like she made Naruto and Sasuke hurt… But not all of this was her fault. And even if it was, could I have done any better in her shoes?

"What will we do?" I sigh, running my hands into my hair, like I could press a solution out of my skull. "Will you tell Shikamaru what happened? About Madara? What about him anyway? Is he still out there? What does he want? And Pain?"

"Pain will be taken care of soon enough," he says, and I see him thinking it all over even as he answers. "Madara is indeed out there. I have done what he asked. I do not know if I will see him again or if he'll bother us anymore. But we will not tell Konoha what I knew of him. And neither will you. He would likely kill us all; he has no boundaries or limits. He is like I was before I met Sakura. He is not blindly cruel, but he doesn't take risks, and death does not faze him."

"So what do we tell Shikamaru?" I ask, but the answer seems suddenly obviously simple.

"That my family was planning a coup," he answers, "And I did not wish to live in Konoha as they would have had me live."

"What about killing Naruto?"

"I killed a man who tried to kill me first."

* * *

><p>Shikamaru listens as my father tells him his revised story. Koto and I are very quiet, careful to keep the truth off our faces as the Hokage keeps his eyes on all three of us. This man is renowned for his intelligence, and I imagine he suspects my father may be hiding something already. Asking to speak to us alone might have been too risky a move, but even so, the last thing even a Nara would expect my father's secret to be is another Uchiha hiding around here somewhere. After my dad finishes his in-depth explanation of his family's plots and corruption, he lays his hands out in front of him, offering Shikamaru the floor.<p>

"Let's say I give you the benefit of the doubt, and believe you," he begins, sighing heavily and leaning back in his chair. "Why did you not go to the authorities and ask for an official leave from Konoha? Why act as suspiciously as you did?"

"Well, at the time, my family made up a large portion of Konoha's police force," he answers smoothly. "It would have been unlikely, keeping any plans out of their ears. I ultimately believed the council would make the same decision I did; as an Uchiha myself, I wished to take the matter into my own hands. It was my responsibility. I did not believe I needed an old man's approval to right my own clan's wrongs."

"Including young children?" Shikamaru scoffs, and I see a hint of true disgust darken his eyes. "And those who were not shinobi?"

"I believed the clan needed to be purged," he responds, straightening a little, defending his reasoning. Shikamaru stares at him a moment, deliberating. "Leaving behind too many survivors might have created even more civil unrest, so I eradicated the entire problem."

"Do you have proof your family was planning a coup?" he asks.

"The Uchiha aren't careless with written documents that could incriminate them," my father explains. "There are none. You would, perhaps, be able to find stored information in their dead bodies or Sharingan, by using a mind transfer technique, but the bodies were cremated to protect the clan's Kekkei Genkai. That was a decision made by the Hokage."

"I wonder," Shikamaru chuckles bitterly. "How many men died trying to kill you? How many times we tried to make sure the Sharingan stayed within Konoha before we gave up."

"The Sharingan never belonged to Konoha," Itachi replies swiftly, as if he expected Shikamaru's accusation. "If men died, it was for my own protection, and men's greed. I have committed no true crime against Konoha since I left its walls."

"The murder of Naruto Uzumaki?" Shikamaru bit harshly. It is obvious how the thought of his friend still pains him. "Our village considers that a crime."

"He attacked me on his own will," he defends, tilting his head to the side. "What I did could very well be considered self-defense."

"Naruto's mission was to retrieve Sakura Haruno," Shikamaru says. "While also considered renegade, Sakura's status was 'captured' and was to be brought back to Konoha alive."

"Sakura came with me willingly," Itachi supplies.

"We didn't know that at the time," Shikamaru tells him, then sighs tiredly. "We can circle this for hours if you like. But you still committed the crime of leaving Konoha against its laws. And that is most often punishable by death."

"Then punish me with death," he says, even as my every muscle tenses.

"Please don't…" I say quietly. "There has to be another way."

"Nothing is decided yet," Shikamaru promises, but the threat is still there. "We have teams dispatched to find Pain now. He is our main priority. The fate of the other Akatsuki members will be officially decided afterward."

"Why did you call me here?" I can't help but wonder. "If you're only here to discuss my father…why…?"

"It has been debated that you coming to Konoha would act as a peace treaty," Shikamaru explains. My eyes widen, my heart leaps… "The rest of your family would be allowed to live, but would remain in Ame."

"No," my father snaps. "Madara is not a pawn. She could destroy your city."

"Not with my son in the picture," Shikamaru challenges, his eyes flickering to me. "I'm only letting you know what the council members are considering. You'd live comfortably in our city, perhaps isolated, but not as a prisoner. You can think on it as we deliberate ourselves."

* * *

><p>"Shikamaru promised this wouldn't happen!" my mother groans once we explain what went down. Father wasn't allowed to come with us. He has to remain in confinement until the trial. "The war is supposed to be over…"<p>

"You can't _honestly_ be surprised," Koto scoffs. He stands stubbornly by the window, arms crossed. "Besides, while Shikamaru might harbor affection for you, or Konoha's memory of you, he's still Hokage. And he has no pity or kindness for our father. Those council members would love to string him up."

"What did he do that's so awful?" Suke asks. He sits on a couch, knees drawn up to his chest, fingers tracing patterns on the fabric beneath him. "Why do they want to kill him so badly?"

None of us say anything. Knowing what I know now, about my mother's past…about Sasuke… Even if they are two separate people, unrelated to each other save by name and blood, I cannot look at Suke the same way anymore. In me swells pity, so powerful I suddenly want to cry, want to fall to my knees and weep. And I'm not sure for who.

But an idea strikes me, a bold one that seems both risky and oh so obvious. I stride back and forth slowly, piecing together my plan. Perhaps.

Perhaps it will actually work.

* * *

><p>We aren't called upon until the next morning. Over the course of the night, Tsuna and Naru join us again, practically tossed in by Konoha shinobi. They tell us that things are already falling apart outside. Citizens, even those who rebelled against Pain, are being poked and prodded, watched like prisoners of a war camp by Konoha shinobi. Ame is their prize. Hope of teamwork, of peace, of a new leaf, is fading very quickly.<p>

"From one tyrant to the next," Naruto says as he curls up with Suke, who has stayed awake, eagerly anticipating his brother's return. Very soon, they fall asleep together, holding on to one another as if letting go would mean death.

Slowly, we one by one find places to sleep, since it's obvious we're trapped here for the night. My mom takes the armchair, and Tsuna the other couch. Koto situates himself by the door, leaning against the wall. Ryu and I find a place tucked in a semi-comfortable corner. We lay beside each other, not touching. He has been very quiet today. Ryu is normally quiet. Stern, formal, and stoic, he's more out of character when he shows his affection for me. But this silence sounds different than normal. I can't really blame him for it. I don't speak either.

I'm pretty sure I fall asleep last. Sleep is far, far away from me tonight, and I watch the ceiling instead of the insides of my eyelids. I think of my plan, of how, if it works, tonight may be the last night we sleep as prisoners. It may be our chance to live like a family. If it doesn't work…well. We could all die. That's the worst scenario. And we're all shinobi, so that risk already comes with the territory.

I must drift off at some point, because I wake suddenly. Not with a start, as if from a nightmare, but just abruptly. I simply open my eyes, fully alert, and the world has changed from night to morning. It's hard to tell if you haven't lived in Ame long, as clouds constantly mask the sky, but I know the difference. I rise, not disturbing Ryu, who turned away from me in his sleep, and cross the room silently. I take my seat at Koto's side, who hasn't moved and holds his sword across his lap.

"You think you can fix this, don't you?" he says quietly, staring directly ahead of him. My brother, while I don't know him well, is both disciplined and hotheaded. Both my father and my mother. I can see it, the family resemblance in all my siblings. Koto takes after both my parents. Naru and Tsuna are all passion, like my mom. Sweet as he is, Suke has the disposition of a calm, quiet Uchiha. Who am I?

"You think I can't," I reply, crossing my legs like he does. I don't feel like my mom. I don't feel temperamental or motherly at all.

"It's unlikely," he tells me, to which I nod slowly. Perhaps I am Uchiha, like my father. I think I can relate more to him. I, in ways, understand why he did what he did. I can't say I would have done the same, but I do not hate him for what happened.

"But not impossible," I argue, keeping my voice even and calm like his. I think I want to be more Uchiha. More like Ryu and my dad. But if Uchihas are to be composed, level, and honorable, why is our crest the fan for the flame?

"No, it isn't," Koto agrees, and I hear, despite his doubt, that he too holds hope like the rest of us. Perhaps we are all Uchiha. Even mom. Maybe it's father who has the most difficulty finding his fire. Or maybe there is no definition? Who am I to say what makes an Uchiha? I never met any of them.

"I can only guarantee I'll do what I can," I admit, finding my gaze on the floor rather than the wall. We are the new generation of Uchiha. We are going to define what our clan represents from here on out.

"I hope you succeed," he murmurs gently, and his fingers grip my knee and squeeze. I smile softly. We have nothing to live up to.

We sit there as the morning stretches on, as a light rain begins to patter against the window's glass, and as the others begin to wake up as well. First, Ryu stirs, and then my mother and Tsuna, almost at the same time. Suke's next, and it's only then I realize Naru's already awake. He just didn't want to let go. We move around the room in hushed tones, not saying much, all lost in our own thoughts. We just wait.

Maybe two hours after I first woke up, the Hyuga man comes to get us. The council wants to speak to us as a family. As a whole. As we file out of the room, I feel absurdly like cattle. Off to be slaughtered. This time, they have us meet in the courtyard. It's been a while since I've been here, but memories flood my mind as if I was here just yesterday. Some shinobi line the canopied edges, but Shikamaru sits more near the middle, staring up at the glass ceiling that shelters this small glimpse of greenery—a luxury afforded to us as Pain's most valuable soldiers. The Angels of Ame. Flanking the Hokage's bench are those who seem to be his most trusted men: Choji, Kakashi, and Kiba. To the side, my father, Kisame Hoshigaki, and the pretty blonde man from my memories—Deidara, I remember—kneel side by side. I see as we approach, the subtle differences in their appearance and demeanor. Kisame has been stripped of his trademark swords, and seems suddenly small without them. Deidara's face is bruised, his long hair a messy tumble around his face. Itachi's eyes are bound by a strip of cloth, seeming somehow regal and defeated in one picture. Each of their hands are bound behind their backs, and they wear the plain, black clothing they normally wear in Ame—the same outfit as Koto. Their cloaks are nowhere in sight.

Growing up, I became familiar with only a few Akatsuki members, namely those before me. These are the men my father grew close to, the ones who sometimes joined us for dinner or helped my siblings and I with our training. Every now and then, if they had the time, they'd even babysit us and take us around town if my mother was too depressed. I am saddened to not see the masked man here as well. I can only hope he might have escaped.

We're set before the Hokage, the shortest—Suke and I—in front while the others stand behind us. My brother trembles beside me, and I grasp his fingers to remind him I'm here.

"I imagine I'd go crazy living here," the Hokage finally says, after letting the ominous silence sink in. The only noise between his words is the rain tapping the surrounding glass. "With no sun here, I can't imagine anyone who would even want to live here."

There's another pause, and then I have the strength to speak.

"Ame is as much a prison as it is a fortress," I tell not only him, but everyone surrounding us. Many shinobi have gathered here to witness this. "All these people want is their freedom. Do not make this place your war trophy."

"I understand the sense in pardoning the men and women born here," Shikamaru sighs, lowering his chin to look at me. "And on that, the council agrees. You cannot control the side on which you are born, no more than you can choose your parents… For that, we have decided on a general pardon on Ame's citizens and shinobi. This includes Tsuna, Naru, and Suke Uchiha. A list of all pardoned people will be constructed and announced in the following days. They will be free to either begin re-constructing this city, or search for a new home."

I lift my chin as he speaks, feeling Suke tense beside me, feel him reach out and cling to my arm as he soaks in his good news with my bad. Shikamaru has paused, whether to think or to wait for one of us to say something. When none of us do, he goes on—I'm impressed his council members, who stand in the corner with their watchful eyes—aren't contributing today.

"Some shinobi, however, must be taken into greater consideration and be given a trial," he explains. "Which is why we are here. Gathered with us are the Kage of the other countries. They, too, have a say in the fate of some of Pain's men."

As he speaks, four figures move from the shadows into the light. My eyes dart to them as I realize now why so many of the ninja here wear headbands other than the Leaf's. They all wear robes similar to the Hokage, but they are as different as different can be. A robust, muscled man with a peculiar mustache; a voluptuous woman with the oddest hair and sultry eyes; a young woman with short-cropped black hair like mine; and a sweet-faced young man who observes us with blank, pale blue eyes.

The Ten-Tails stirs to life within me as my eyes settle on the last man. He purrs affectionately within me, and I feel a sharp tug in my stomach as our eyes meet across the courtyard. In me, the demon explains himself: _The Kazekage is a former Jinchuuriki, little Madara. One of the only to survive the extraction process._ My mouth parts a little at this new information; I have always wondered why my mind harbored eight ghosts instead of nine. _This one was a good Jinchuuriki for his demon. A good friend of Naruto's._

"Konoha will begin with our own charges," Shikamaru continues. "The other countries will each be allowed a voice once we've laid out our own issues."

The Kage give a collection of nods and murmurs of agreement, whether willingly or blatantly reluctant. Really, only the Kazekage seems okay to wait patiently. The others are more bitter, as if they each deserve the chance to speak first over the other. Perhaps not as malicious, they all remind me of mini-Pains. I instantly don't care for them.

"We'll start with the problem of Akatsuki," Shikamaru begins. "The members are known as criminals thoughout the countries. In past years, they hunted, captured, and assassinated prominent figures in every city, including our own Naruto Uzumaki. They stood as Pain's right-hand men and led his call for war on the frontlines."

"The call to Akatsuki is not an invitation," my father says from where he kneels. Without his eyes, he does not bother to move his head in Shikamaru's direction, but remains entirely immobile. "One cannot decline and not also welcome death."

"A noble shinobi always welcomes death instead of betrayal to his own country," a council member pipes from the corner. There is a murmur of solid agreement around us.

"Each of us had already deflected from our villages when Pain found us," Kisame hisses, his voice growling out each word as a blank-faced sneer. "Dying would have meant giving our Kekkei Genkai to enemy hands. We did you a favor."

"Which also offers the problem of deflecting from a village," Shikamaru goes on. "Which is punishable by death."

"My village murdered my family," Deidara spits, glaring through his locks at one of the Kage—which one, from this angle, I can't tell. "I have no loyalty to them. They don't deserve it."

"My village held blood baths as graduation rites," Kisame chuckles. "I did no worse than that."

"I already explained my reasoning for leaving Konoha," my father says. "I prevented a civil war that Konoha would have lost, and took my leave as I willed."

"Itachi, you claim you murdered your family to keep a coup from occurring," Shikamaru says. "To prove this is true, would you be willing to let one of our shinobi search your mind for the truth?"

"Yes," my father says without hesitating. At first, I'm surprised, but then I consider it. Like me, or any powerful Uchiha with a developed Sharingan, we have control over what a person in our mind can see. "I would agree to that. Are any of your shinobi brave enough?"

It isn't a threat, but every shinobi here tenses. I see gazes flicking around the courtyard fearfully. To me, to my dad, to Kakashi.

"If I wanted to kill any of you," my father then says, his voice dropping so low, bumps pop up all along my arms. "You'd _all be dead_."

"You may be an Uchiha," the large Kage snaps fiercely. His voice is gruff and masculine, though slightly warped by age—by the looks of him, I wouldn't have put him past fifty, but perhaps I'm wrong. My guess, from the men and women who nod in agreement with him, is that he is from Kumogakure. The Raikage. "But we do not fear you."

"Then you are fools," my mom fires back from behind me. Everyone quiets upon hearing her speak. "You are in a room with three of the most powerful men in the shinobi countries, and six Uchihas, not one. You don't think they could fight you if they chose?"

"Sakura Haruno," the council member sneers. "You face your own charges. We don't need your commentary."

"She is correct," Itachi interrupts. "I could be free of these restraints and you people if I wished to fight you and escape. Don't take for granted our compliance."

"You didn't comply when we went to retrieve you," Kiba challenges. Deidara whirls his head, gnashing his teeth at the Inuzuka.

"You _attacked_ us!" he snarls. "You didn't tell us you'd come in _peace_ until you'd tried and _failed_ to kill us!"

"Miscommunication in that regard was our fault," Shikamaru acknowledges, holding up a hand to quiet Kiba. "You claim you were hunting Pain when our team found you?"

"Yeah," Deidara huffs. "We hate that son of a bitch."

"Yet you served him so long?"

"We told you," Kisame yawns. "You can't say no to Pain. Before little Madara over there, we never had a chance to take him down."

"Ah, yes," Shikamaru murmurs. "There is also the issue of Madara Uchiha. The last Jinchuuriki."

"What about me?" I prompt, raising an eyebrow, holding my head high.

"You can understand there is some concern among nations about who you will affiliate yourself with after this," the Hokage sighs.

"Sure," I respond, tilting my head at him, and giving my look of skepticism to the other Kage. "But what do any of you think _you're_ going to do about it?"

"Little girl, please," the older woman chuckles, not at all nicely. I narrow my eyes at her cockiness. "This is grown-up talk."

"About me," I snap. "You will not talk about me like I'm a weapon and not standing right in front of you."

"You are a weapon," the black-haired girl says. "You'll have to get over that."

"We've all been stripped of our Jinchuuriki so that Pain could create this war," the Raikage adds. "It's reasonable enough to debate who you will belong to."

I don't mean to tap the demon's chakra. It just happens. Fire explodes from my hands, and curls around my arms. I ignore the shouts of alarm, unflinching from the Kages' stares.

"I belong to no one," I growl, and my voice is amplified by the demon's power. Everyone around me is moving, shinobi unsure what to do. The Kage remain calm, though. Either assured or simply assessing. "And you will not underestimate my generosity for letting you have your petty debates in the first place."

"Madara," that soft voice chimes from the shadows. My gut wrenches, as I try, for the first time, to fight the bond between Shika and I. I snarl, struggling to keep my fire from quenching despite his command. "Don't. It isn't worth it."

I don't want to fight. Can't help but let my chakra subside as his will washes mine away. If Shika is here, I am harmless. I press my lips together, refuse to even look at him. He knew I wasn't going to hurt anybody—it was just an empty threat. He only controlled me to show Konoha's power over me for his father's sake.

"So you do have control over the Jinchuuriki," the big guy comments; I can't tell if he's bothered or impressed by this. "Interesting thing to put the jutsu on your own son."

"I wonder what might happen if he died," the younger woman tests, but her implication doesn't seem to upset Shikamaru.

"You might have a hard time finding out," he states, nodding to me. "You'd have to get through her first, of course. Now, Madara, would you have a preference of alliance if given a choice?"

"_When_."

We all turn toward the pale, blue-eyed Kazekage who's remained quiet until this moment. No emotion mars his face, but his voice has made me second-guess his age. He is very young-looking, but the Ten-Tails said he was Naruto's friend—Naruto's been dead for over twenty years. _Being a Jinchuuriki slows the aging process,_ the demon informs me, _And he still possesses pieces of our chakra. He is very formidable._ I watch this Kazekage as he stares back at all the people glaring at him.

"_When_ Madara is given a choice," he completes his amendment, neither abashed nor arrogant in making this decision.

"You are one of five voices," the woman snaps, but the Kazekage is ready with his answer.

"Unless one of you has experienced the burdens of being subjected to the life of a Jinchuuriki rather than simply being the one holding his leash," he counters smoothly, "I believe my voice outweighs yours."

"Then what do you suggest, Gaara?" the Hokage asks quietly. The redhaired man turns to me, his pale eyes reading every stitch of pain and endurance that holds me together. I see the same past reflected back at me like a mirror.

"I say we don't decide a woman's fate for her," he announces. "She should choose her own future, same as any other human being."

"You would pass up the opportunity to have a Jinchuuriki for your village?" the girl scoffs. The Kazekage doesn't even bother looking at her. "As the leader of your people, you aren't doing everything you can to keep them safe if that's the way you're going to look at it."

"I know my village's defenses will not suffer without her," he replies in turn, making her face heat up at the implied insult. "I am sorry the rest of you are not as confident."

"You cocky little—" the Raikage growls, each of their faces cherry red, but Shikamaru cuts him off.

"Gaara is correct," he consents. "Madara has been forced into this position not of her own will. We cannot defile our own humanity to suffice our greed for power or superiority. Madara should be allowed to choose for herself where she resides."

"Fine," the girl grunts. "But what of the Akatsuki members? Deidara, before even joining this vile organization, was a terrorist of my village. Many would be satisfied with his death."

"Your people murdered my family before my eyes!" Deidara snarls, and even as his voice cracks, I see tears spring to his beaten, red-rimmed eyes. My heart clenches, skipping a beat. "What would you expect, hm? Gratitude?"

"It has never been proven that our shinobi were responsible for that incident," she says, but I can see in her eyes a different story. A glimmer of momentary pity for a younger Deidara. "Your claims can't excuse your crimes."

"What about your crimes, ya arrogant bitch!" he yells, propelling himself as if to attack her. But Iwa shinobi flash forward and strike him to the ground. So she is the Tsuchikage. My stomach clenches as I watch him cough hot, sticky blood onto the grass.

"Stop it," I demand, drawing in everyone's eyes again. "The men here are only available for your trial because I bid they be here for it. We _surrendered_. We are shinobi—we've all committed crimes against each other. But when I stopped this war, and _I_ stopped it—not any of you—I did it for the sake of a clean slate. For all this hate and fighting to end. To save many of your lives. To start over and give the villages a new opportunity to live in peace—for however long you let it last. The war is over. Would you stop this?"

"Easy for the trapped rat to say," the woman sneers. By elimination, I guess she's the Mizukage of Kiri then. "We have villages to care for, little girl. Titles to uphold. We only want our justice."

"No, you want revenge!" I scream. "You want to be the last one standing! That's what started half this mess in the first place! Revenge for things that didn't need to be avenged!"

"Again, you speak out of turn," she sighs, flipping her glossy bangs back, but they fall right back into place. "It's easy to say and not do."

"I have plenty of cause to seek revenge," I hiss at her. "For being thrust in this war, for being born a Jinchuuriki, for being tortured night and day for _months_ by Pain so he could test the limits of my powers… You think you want revenge? For a war that's hardly touched your luxurious lives? In your safe little towers, the ones pulling the strings? Well, I've been the puppet. _All. My. Life_. And I just want it to stop."

"Are you saying that you are above revenge, girl?" the Raikage inquires. "That you would not slay Pain if he surrendered at your feet?"

"No. I cannot," I admit slowly, truthfully, but add assuredly, "But I know someone who could."

"Oh?" The Tsuchikage laughs, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. "And who is this saint of yours?"

"The man who has helped me survive all my life, and not once sought even my acknowledgement," I say softly, and for one moment, as that familiar light glows in my core, I want to cry again. "Naruto Uzumaki."

There is dead quiet as these people take in my words. I can visibly see the weight his name holds, and the truth my words possess. First, I see shock, then a softening of sorrow and remembrance and love, even in the faces of the other Kages. Then comes the rage.

"How dare you say his name!" Kiba explodes, stepping forward. Kakashi reaches out to hold him back, but Kiba keeps shouting. "You didn't know him! He's dead. Your damn father killed him, murdered him, to create that thing inside you! For Pain!"

"My father did carry out the orders to kill Naruto," I say calmly, even though my heart is racing. This is it. "But I believe Naruto forgives him."

"What gives you the right—" Kiba yells, but Kakashi hushes him and turns to me.

"You keep speaking about him in the present tense," he notes, staring with his one visible eye. "Why?"

"I contain fragments of all the Jinchuuriki who died before me to bring the Ten-Tails to existence," I tell him, tell them all. "Naruto's is the strongest…perhaps because I wear his necklace. He has saved my life…and kept me from losing my mind… His light, which he willingly gives _me_—the byproduct of his death—keeps me standing. If he wanted, I would succumb to insanity, or die, even. He has spoken to me…and it you like, he can speak to you as well."

Again, there is a very still quiet, and then a series of hushed, hurried whispers among Kages and advisors, among councils, among friends and teams and shinobi. I see horror and hope, wrapped all in one, in many of Konoha's shinobi's faces. Many cannot look at me, including the Hokage, who has closed his eyes and is quiet. Some stare at me, mouth agape, like Kiba, torn between their desires.

"If you would like Naruto to have a say in this trial," I say softly. "I believe I can make that happen."

"Can you?" Gaara asks, and I see his once blank expression has softened with the pain of missing one dear to him. "I, for one, would like to hear my old friend's voice."

"And what might that do?" the Mizukage sighs. "Naruto was an influential, remarkable young man. But the dead should not decide the fates of the living."

"I would appreciate a good man's council," Gaara replies firmly.

"I believe many here would care to hear what Naruto has to say," Shikamaru says softly, and I realize he's staring past me. "And I believe this will serve as Sakura Haruno's final punishment for her crime of deflecting from Konoha."

I turn now to look at my mother, who has half-turned from me. She covers her mouth with one hand, her other arm wrapped around her torso as if she might throw up. She's trembling head to toe, mouth twitching as she tries to contain her tears. But it's not working. No amount of fidgeting can keep her from crying this time. The tears pour from her red eyes, her nose swelling as every second passes. She shakes her head slowly, her tortured, pained eyes pleading with me softly. Begging me not to do this. I turn back to Shikamaru.

"Give me a minute," I request. "I have never contacted him on my own."

"Do what you need to," Shikamaru complies, gesturing vaguely with his hand. He leans over his shoulder to speak with Kakashi, but everyone else's eyes are on me.

I try to ignore them, and step a few feet away from my family, until I am close to the center of the courtyard. There, I sit cross-legged, squirming until I am comfortable. Then I shut my eyes and delve deep into myself. First I find the demon.

* * *

><p><strong>I am terribly sorry for that delay. I know I always say that, but there was a mishap with my new computer. It was doing some majorly horrible things to all the Word files on my flashdrive (until I installed Microsoft Word, not this stupid, free, Wordpad thing I've been using), so I decided not to even touch any of the files, because I didn't want them to get corrupted, and it was impossible to decipher them anyway.<strong>

**But I'm back. Living in my new apartment. My updates may either be frequent or not. I've had some pretty big changes in my life, one of the major ones being my boyfriend breaking up with me. That's left a huge hole in my life, and so far, I've been using writing to fill it back up so I don't have to think about him. Lucky you guys. But classes for me start this Tuesday, and auditions and all that start Monday. So starting next week, I'll be pretty distracted, so I'm sorry if I don't update again. This chapter seems kind of long for this story, and I hope you liked it. It isn't as crazy as some of the others (I hope you'll notice Madara's mind is clearing up a little now thanks to Naruto, especially with those beads gone). Hope I haven't lost all of you. **

**Oh, and the Tsuchikage in the series is ancient, so I figured he'd be dead by now. I'm thinking you all can guess who filled his shoes, though she'd be significantly older. I didn't want to bother switching out any of the other Kage because my brain was tired. -_- Sorry.**

**AnimeCountDown**


	14. Prepared for Execution

He's in his new cave, sitting upright and staring down at me with almost benevolent eyes. I rush to him, head tilted back in order to meet his gaze. He cocks his head at me, like a dog waiting for its master, but I know better.

"You knew!" I growl. I shove my finger at him accusingly as I approach. "You knew about Madara, about his plans to make me your Jinchuuriki! You _knew_!"

"I did, little Madara," he replies, again with a kindness I'm unfamiliar to. It's almost…excitement. I've never seen him anything but indifferent or furious before. Now…it's as those he's become younger. As though he's been waiting all this time for me to figure it out.

"That's why you call me little Madara," I breathe, frowning at him in realization. He nods, tails swishing back and forth. "Because there are _two_ Madaras… You know him, don't you?"

"Indeed," he purrs. "I have existed before, and at Madara Uchiha's side. Not within him, but as I am in my true form. We were unstoppable as a team. He bid I not say anything to my new Jinchuuriki about him when I was split into nine Tailed Demons. He promised me he'd have me live once again."

"How?" I ask, nearly falling to my knees from weariness. "If you were so mighty, how did you end up in nine parts to begin with?"

"Long ago, Madara led the Uchiha as the head of the clan," he explains. "He held great power, and could summon me at will. But after Konoha was built and founded, they deemed me too dangerous to be associated, unrestrained and unleashed, with their village. They told him to contain me, and he refused. Why he did not agree to their requests, I still am unsure. Whether out of friendship to me or due to a strategy I do not know, it matters not. But they told him he had no choice, and would have to either seal me or leave Konoha. Again, he refused, and prepared to attack his village with me, but they expected this and were better prepared than we anticipated. And they cast their jutsu to split me into parts, and sent Madara into exile."

"That's why he wanted revenge," I mutter, crossing my arms. I glance back up at the Ten-Tail's face. "Does…he plan to extract you from me?"

"I do not know his current plans," he tells me. "I have not met with him in my full form in over a century. But if it is your life you fear for, little Madara, do not fret. He will heed my words, and I have grown fond of you over our years together."

I'm surprised that his words truly, deeply touch me. Unable to speak a moment, I wipe at my eyes and look away. He purrs and lowers his body very carefully to nuzzle me with his nose. It's large enough, even with his caution, to nearly topple me over. I grab at him to keep upright, and then hang onto him in an embrace of sorts.

"I'm pretty fond of you, too," I admit, and step back with a deep breath. He blinks at me. I take another breath. "Well. Alright. Down to business. How do I find Naruto?"

"I don't know," he answers. Now _I _blink at _him_, and he cocks his head at me. "I have not seen Naruto since he was alive, and that was as the Nine-Tails."

"He's not here?" I exclaim, panic gripping me. "In me? He has to be! He's the light!"

"Somewhere inside you, perhaps," he assures me. "But not here with me, little Madara. You must look elsewhere."

"How do I do that?" I ask, deflating miserably.

"Meditate," he suggests, and I roll my eyes and groan.

"But I only have a little bit of time!" I run my hand through my hair and stare up at the ceiling of the Ten-Tails' warmly lit cave.

"My place within you is one that we share together," the Ten-Tails explains, sitting up again until he towers over me once more. I look to him, in all his wisdom. His eyes are large and warm and bathe me in a calming rush of certainty. "A human's soul is built of many sizable pieces, not one alone. And a soul such as yours is the most complex of creations. But think of this. I am near your center, the foundation of your existence, little Madara. I helped you come into this life, which makes my being inextricably wound with your core. Without me, you very well would have died before birth."

"Okay…" I turn to the Ten-Tails, searching his eyes for the answer to whatever riddle he's spinning. "So… If this is somewhere near my…_center_, because you played such a large role in my survival when I was born, because you're such a huge part of me… Well, Naruto can't be too far, right? He's saved me so many times. I mean, his ghost—all the Jinchuurikis—are a part of me because _you_ and all your past forms are a part of me."

I glance back, at the gaping dark archway that is the only entrance or exit to this cave. It is large and formidable. I've never used it. I enter the Ten-Tails' cavern simply by meditating and willing myself here. I leave by pulling myself back to reality—the whole thing is entirely a mental process. I stare at the darkness, chewing on the inside of my cheek contemplatively.

"Is that…how I get to the rest of me?" I ask him, and he nudges my back softly with his nose in response. I stumble forward, and pause to look back at him. "I've never searched the rest of me before…not like this…"

"Perhaps it is time to," he suggests, lying down and resting his chin on his paws. He watches me. "You will not find your light without trying."

"I guess I don't have a choice," I sigh, and straighten my shoulders. He's right. How will I ever find Naruto without facing myself first?

* * *

><p>The first few steps are fine. Tentative and uncertain, simply walking into darkness. When I glance over my shoulder, the light cast from the Ten-Tails' flames has stopped flickering. There is nothing there but black. I am alone within myself, with no one there to guide me. The more steps I take, the more I feel as though the ground is losing solidity beneath my feet and the air is becoming tangible around me. Like gravity from every direction, until I am floating more than I'm walking. Drifting.<p>

Then the whispers start. They are so soft at first, so gentle and not-there, I wonder if I'm actually hearing anything at all. I turn the first time one graces my ear, and the second and third time, too. But by the time they've begun to grow, and I realize what they are—and that I can't see anything around me anyway—I close my eyes, swallow, and simply listen to them. Listen to all the cries, the pleading and begging that haunts my memories. Listen as they become a physical presence, slithering over my arms and legs. They are feather-light as they flit and slide and caress my skin. Until they start to scrape. Pinch a little. Pressing sharpened ends into and under my flesh, sucking at the wounds, and ripping them back a little farther. I tilt my head back, open my eyes to the darkness and let the tears roll from the corners of my eyes.

Every word that stabs at my ears takes a heavy toll on my body. I am tired. Tired of hearing all my screams as a child in Pain's labs. Tired of reliving the way my mother would appeal to him breathlessly. Tired of the ghosts in my head picking apart my enemies with rotting nails and death-ridden moans. Tired of listening to the screams of men I've killed, to the shouts of people arguing over me, to the yelling of my loved ones. Just tired. So tired.

The words become heavier and harder and sharper. The longer I wait here, the more difficult it will be to get away from this place and all the darkness it holds. I'm still looking for the light. I can't stop looking for it. If I do, I'll never get out of here. Everything I've done, everything we've accomplished… It will all have been for nothing. And I can't have that. I need to find the light. Because once I find that…I can save everyone. There will be no more worrying about anything ever again. It's worth this one last fight.

I lower my chin and take another step. It's like pushing through mud. The sounds have condensed around me, sticking to everything from my waist down and crawling upward still. It hurts to move, like I'm shaking loose pins and needles. But I do it anyway. I force one leg forward, and then another. Until the words don't echo so loudly and the pinching becomes a numb tingle and a soft light begins to creep over the insides of my eyelids.

I open my eyes to brilliant white surroundings. It's the kind of hospital-stark-white that reminds me of Pain's basement and his experiments with me. The ones that made my eyes bleed for hours on end afterward and had my ears ringing from the sounds the men I tortured made. I make a full turn, watching and waiting. Everything is deathly still and silent. This isn't the light I was looking for.

It's the blaring light I can't escape. Nothing will ever change the things I did. I take in a deep breath, and lower myself onto the floor, crossing my legs beneath me. He brought me here to test how far my Sharingan could go. How much damage it could do. This white is stained with unshed blood. All the hurt I caused…it was always on the inside, where no one could see it. In the mind. It didn't leave a single mark, but it was deadly. The men I hurt at Pain's bidding…they'll never be the same again. They'll never live normal lives. Even if they recover from the trauma, nothing will prevent their nightmares. Nothing will keep them from jumping at every shadow or flinching when a girl sharing my features passes by.

My Sharingan is a special version of Mangekyo. A kind I was born with because of the Ten-Tailed Demon. We share it as though we share eyes, in a way. It's a kind of Sharingan no Uchiha has ever possessed before. I never faced any trial or went through any training to achieve the power in my eyes. It is a kind that only becomes stronger as I get older.

I see them even now. It was years and years ago, and I still remember every single face that came through that door. I remember each mind I slipped inside, all the ones I crumpled like a piece of paper in my hand. I remember the way that writhed within my grasp, collapsed to the floor in fits of seizures. Or just pain. Some of them were strong. Strong enough to last longer or escape without as much agony. But not strong enough to win. Pain told every single one of them the same thing. They each shared a mission.

Kill the girl.

At first, they would refuse. But then word got around that once you were called into that room, you didn't truly leave. They dragged your body out and threw what was left of you into a psychiatric ward for further study. Pain wanted to see every extent of what my eyes could do. Eventually, they had no qualms about attacking me. They'd come at me the second they were released into the room. They never got far. Sometimes, I thought about just letting them kill me. But then the Ten-Tails would step in. He didn't want me to die any more than Pain did. He kept me alive.

I'm sinking before I realize it. I look down to see the floor swallowing me whole. I'm melting into it like someone's turned up the heat and I'm made of nothing but ice. Losing all that makes me who I am.

No. I'm not losing anything.

I'm accepting it.

* * *

><p>He stands before me bathed in the same white light as before. His deep blue eyes strike me with an abrupt knowing, startling me badly enough I almost lose my footing. Just a second ago, I was melting into the foundation of my worst memories. Now, all of a sudden, the target of my search is right in front of me. And he doesn't look on me with the kindness and compassion he has in the past. But almost instantly, I know what it is that warrants his heavy disapproval. I hesitate, and then I step forward.<p>

"I need your help," I say softly. His eyes soften considerably at the sound of my voice. "They… I know you have every reason not to help him, but…my father…"

"You want me to convince them to spare him," he murmurs, and there is a certain reserved nature to his words that concerns me. He lowers his gaze from mine.

"I am so sorry, Naruto," I whisper, biting my lip and fiddling with my fingers. "I had no idea… My parents…what they did to you. I can't imagine…"

"I didn't know it all either," Naruto answers, pinning me again with his thoughtful eyes. "What… Itachi told you. About why he did it all."

"You heard that, huh?" I say softly.

"I've heard everything," he replies. My heart sinks, and he speaks before I can explain myself. "You used me to hurt Sakura."

"I know, and I'm sorry!" I exclaim. "I was so angry at her! For keeping all this from me! For what she did to you! What she did to Sasuke!"

"She has suffered, too," Naruto reminds me. "What you've done is unnecessary. You only made it worse."

"Ease her pain, then," I beg. "Please, Naruto. The last favor I'll ask of you."

"It's a costly favor," Naruto sighs, tilting his head at me. "You don't understand everything that encompasses this situation, Madara. Quite frankly, I don't know if I can really understand it all either. There's so much to it."

"I know that," I assure him. "And I know I've been overstepping. I know I've made my fair share of mistakes. But… All I can do is try to fix what's right in front of me. And right now, my father's life is on the line. I have to do _whatever _it takes to safe him. Don't you understand that?"

"You're alive because I died," Naruto says gently. His words steal my breath. "Do _you _understand _that_?"

We stare at each other for a long while. There is no malice or anger in his words. If Naruto, as peaceful as he appears to me, holds a grudge in his death, it is not one harbored against me. My father perhaps. If anybody, he would be the obvious answer. Maybe a little toward my mom. But he loves my mom, so that kind of weighs the bad stuff out. It has to be my dad. But…what Naruto says is true. If my father had never killed him…I would have never made it. Even if my parents had given birth to all my older siblings, and all that had remained the same…I would have been stillborn without the Ten-Tailed Demon's power.

"I know," I tell him. "And I know I have no right to ask you for anything. But…even if you hate him…he's still my family. _I_ still love him. And…and I have to try, Naruto… Please… I'm sorry, but…"

He stares at me a long, long while, and as I take in the steely determination in his eyes, my lungs suddenly begin to stretch, full of something other than air. This man is more than anything there has ever been. The look of him, the feel as his aura bursts through my physical body, brings tears to my eyes.

Suddenly, I am staring into the eyes of five eager Kage. I am still. As still as can be. Except I am not in control. My mind and body have disconnected entirely. I can see, I can hear. But my legs unfold beneath me of someone else's will, and as I stand, I am suddenly taller, bigger. There are muscles now I've never had before. I am no longer me.

"I can't believe it," Shikamaru gasps, stepping forward hesitantly. "That can't really be you."

"The robes look good on you, Shikamaru," Naruto's voice comes from my lips. His lips. I feel the chakra, foreign chakra, pulsing from my heart to his limbs. This is a jutsu I've never even fathomed being possible.

"You really…" Shikamaru's face is caught between confusion, bewilderment, and agony. "Is a part of you actually living inside her?"

"I am," Naruto replies, his voice an ethereal echo that would give me chills if this body belonged to me. "I'm not trapped in here or anchored. But I have a bond with Madara that lets me guide her when she truly needs it. I can only keep this form for so long, though. We'll have to do this quickly."

"I can't believe it," the Hokage gasps again, leaning back in his seat. Around me—around Naruto—there are dozens of astonished faces. A few catch Naruto's eye.

"You're still kickin', old man?" he chuckles, smirking at the masked man affectionately. Kakashi stares, and even with his mask, I see his torture. Naruto's eyes are shifting, taking in all his past friends. "Neji. Kiba. Gaara. Good to see you all again. I didn't think I'd ever get the chance."

They are silent, mouths moving like they wish to speak, but too stunned to even think of the words that can describe this miracle. Naruto wasn't lying, though. He's moving fast, more abruptly than anyone else can really keep up with. Even I. Because when I'm suddenly staring at my father, on his knees and blindfolded, prepared for execution, I am mortified. Naruto possesses my body with his own, but his emotions as he looks upon the man who killed him are hidden from me. The silence is horribly stifling.

"Itachi Uchiha." He blinks.

"I didn't count on coming across you again," Itachi replies, his cold words made colder by his tone. Or lack of tone. "Do you plan on haunting me?"

"An interesting thing to say in your predicament," Naruto notes, a smidge of irritation threading his voice. "Your daughter just asked me to beg for your life."

"Do with it as you see fit," Itachi says, raising his chin proudly. "I took yours. You may take mine."

"Itachi!"

Naruto whips around as if that voice could send him across the sea if it demanded. My mother stumbles forward a few feet away. Her eyes are wide and trembling and wet as she gazes at Naruto. For a moment, a pang of something tremendous shoots through my heart—his heart. My mother's lips move quietly.

"Naruto…" she whispers, searching his face as if she can find there the answers. A clue as to how this is even happening, and what the right thing to do next is.

"Hey," he finally breathes, a smile breaking out over our face. "I always thought you had shitty taste in men."

"Naruto," she whimpers helplessly, and it begins to pour out. "I'm so sorry—"

"Sakura," Naruto interrupts, shaking his head. "I know you did everything for a reason. I know you were hurting. I hope you have found the happiness I couldn't give you."

"But I—" He won't let her get a word out.

"I've had a long time to think about everything," he says, turning slowly back to glance at Itachi. There's a long moment between them. Even though my father cannot physically see Naruto, I sense the connection they share, if only briefly. Naruto looks to Shikamaru, to all five kage. "Killing Itachi won't fix anything he's done. I'm dead. I'm not coming back. But he has a family. A family I love dearly—as if it was my own. If you would honor my memory, think of this as my last wish: do not seek revenge in my name. Revenge ruined my life. Do not use me as an excuse to live by it."

"Naruto, do you know what he's done?" Kiba snarls, stepping forward even as Neji catches him by the arm and holds him back.

"Yes," Naruto says softly, straightening slowly. "And I know why. Through Madara's ears, I have heard his story, and Sakura's, in full. They are stories as tragic as mine. Do not prolong their misery for me, simply because they are alive to punish. I am at peace with those I love. Let those people be as well."

"But the crimes—"

"Konoha is not without its crimes," Naruto notes, eyeing the Kage boldly. "None of our villages are. What better chance for a fresh start?"

There is another silence. Around us, people glare at the courtyard floor, soaking in Naruto's words in either bitterness or understanding. My mother's eyes are softly shut, my father's on Naruto. My siblings stare in awe, and the Kage…they trade uncertain glances.

"You don't need to accept them back within your walls," Naruto says. "Let them swear to peace, and go on their way. Banish them. But leave their lives in their own hands, as you hold your own."

"I am in favor of Naruto's judgment," Gaara suddenly speaks up. "I don't want these men in my village, but if they leave us be, I'll respect Naruto's wishes."

"You trust a murderer's promise?" the Mizukage scoffs indignantly.

"Aren't all shinobi murderers?" Gaara retorts softly, gaze distant and sad. "I am not so proud I'd claim my hands are clean, as none of these men have. They abided by the bloody laws we've all condoned—they were merely on the other side of the battlefield. Have our own villages not faced each other in war, and yet we manage to sit side by side today? Take Pain's life if you must have your punishment, but these men are not evil. They are soldiers."

"Who fought for us and spared many men's lives," Shikamaru points out, twisting his mouth. He sighs. "I'm tired of this. I want a clean slate. That is what I choose to fight for."

"I do think there is a point here," the Tsuchikage submits. "I will…agree to this. Deidara will be put to death if he comes to Iwa again…but we will agree to giving him a chance to start a quiet life elsewhere."

"Like I wanted to go back anyway, hn!" Deidara spits, returning her hateful glare.

"Ungrateful bastard!" she snaps, to which the Mizukage snorts.

"I'm not so convinced," she sighs, pursing her lips. "Kisame's crimes…"

"I learned from the best," he hisses, a frightening grin cracking his mouth wide open. The Mizukage eyes him angrily.

"My time here won't last much longer," Naruto intervenes, and as he says it, I begin to feel a light tingling in my fingers, a place where I am gaining the control Naruto's jutsu is letting slip away. A few people step forward, as though their actions could keep him grounded here, for any while longer. "I don't know how greatly you take my words to heart, but understand that despite the past and all the errors these men have made…I forgive them. I wish that you might allow yourselves to do the same, and benefit from the peace you shall reap from it."

"Thank you, Naruto," Shikamaru says, something both old and young in his dark, unreachable eyes.

"It was good to see you again, brother," Gaara murmurs softly, and again, I feel a pang of something shared between Naruto's heart and mine.

"Rest peacefully," Kakashi says from his place nearby, as though he's finally found his voice. Naruto smiles at him. "I am proud of all you've done, Naruto."

"It was never your fault," Naruto says kindly, to which Kakashi makes no reply. As they speak, the jutsu is slowly fading, replacing Naruto's bones and muscles and skin with mine inch by inch. With the time he has left, Naruto turns, to face my mother and our family.

"Don't feel so guilty, Sakura," he whispers, and I wonder if the others can hear, or if they're meant to. If I'm meant to. He leans forward, reaches out his hand to her, and trembling, she does the same. They're fingers touch just barely, and I can feel the pressure of her hand as it becomes entwined with Naruto's. She watches him, and he smiles at her. Despite the immense sadness that overwhelms him. He lets not one inch of it show. His smile is wide and carefree and the most charming, youthful thing my mother has seen in a long while. It disarms her, makes her step forward once more and releases the tears from her hold. "Don't worry about us. We're fine. We still argue like hell, but he's not such a bastard anymore. He can be good company when he wants."

"Tell him…" She can't really get the words out, but he squeezes her hand.

"He knows," he reassures her, and for a moment, I think I will burst through, but Naruto holds on for just a moment longer. So he can move closer, and bring his lips to my mother's forehead. "I'll be watching while we wait for you. But take your time, alright? You have work to do here."

"I know," she sighs as he steps back, and their eyes meet for one last time.

I'm back so abruptly, in a burst of light, that I gasp for air, collapsing where I stand because my knees are too weak, my lungs still asleep. My heart pounds furiously while my mother and brothers crouch around me. I wave them away, not out of disapproval, but because I need the space, and there's no need for any of them to worry. I have done what I can. I turn to look over at the Kage, who stare at me in new ways now, each of them. I meet the Mizukage's gaze firmly, my family surrounding me where I kneel in the dirt, like my father and his companions.

"Will you stop this?" I huff through heavy breaths. She lifts her chin and purses her lips. "Will you lay down your grudge, and join us in our hunt for Pain? He's the real target, isn't he?"

"I might pardon Kisame Hoshigaki," she says, peering at her nail for a second before clucking her tongue against her cheek and smiling at me prettily, "If you would come live within Kiri's walls, Jinchuuriki."

Tension seizes my body. Fire threatens to fill my veins, but while Naruto's presence is weak and far-off, the Ten Tails breathes softly in my ear, _Caution, little Madara. Force will not work now. _I exhale slowly, letting the anger pour from me as I get to my feet.

"You do not want to blackmail me," I say darkly. Her eyes narrow.

"Can't you just let it go?" the Tsuchikage groans, shaking her head. "Madara's right. The longer we sit here and discuss the fates of three men who have already surrendered and sworn to peace, the longer we allow Pain to get away. He's still out there, and I'd rather have his head than one of the Akatsuki."

"Besides, this isn't even the entire Akatsuki force," Shikamaru notes, glancing at my father. "There are ten positions, aren't there?"

"Only seven were occupied the day of the attack, not including Pain," Itachi answers, still motionless. "Myself, Kisame, Deidara, and my son, Koto, were four to join the rebellion against Ame. The others were Konan, a female member close to Pain. She was killed during the battle. Zetsu, who has disappeared, and will likely remain that way. He is not one for confrontation unless the odds are heavily in his favor. Five armies congregated on one field against him are not good conditions. The last member is Tobi, who supports the rebellion as well. He was with us in our pursuit for Pain, but must have escaped your men and carried on without us."

Ah, the masked man. I had nearly forgotten about him. It makes me happy to know that he was on our side of the fight as well, and that there might still be some hope of catching Pain. I frown, though, at the thought of a fight between the two. I never knew anything about the masked man—Tobi. Until now, I'd never even known his name. But somehow I doubt his expertise is all that extensive. Every time I saw him, he was jovial and silly. A few times, I saw Deidara strike him into helpless submission. As a little girl, I found their bantering and Tobi's pathetic nature entertaining. But now I wonder if leaving him to find and capture or kill Pain, the most powerful shinobi I've ever met, was a great idea.

"There was a fourth member your men failed to capture?" the Raikage scoffs at Shikamaru, who turns to Kiba questioningly.

"There was only the three, and some of the other men they were with," Kiba denies, shaking his head with a disconcerted look on his face.

"Tobi excels in evasion," Itachi notes, and I swear I see the ghost of a smile threaten to pull at his mouth.

"He's an idiot, but it looks like he could get past the likes of you," Deidara spits at Kiba's feet, but before the Inuzuka can respond, Shikamaru stands and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Enough," he commands, and then turns back to the other Kage. "Kurotsuchi, Gaara, and I have all agreed to let go of this feud. Ay and Mei, what are your decisions? We can disband Akatsuki permanently here and now, and set these prisoners free as an act of peace. We can use their knowledge of Pain to help track him down and put an end to this long war. Decide."

"Pain is the man we are truly concerned with," the Raikage determines, crossing his arms and sitting back in his seat. "None of these men were the one to steal my brother from me. So I can be at peace if we put a stop to the head of the entire organization. That is the real issue."

There is a quiet.

"Mei?" Shikamaru urges, raising a brow. After a moment of what looks a lot to me like pouting, the Mizukage rolls her eyes and stands as well, dusting off her dress like she's been doing something other than sitting and bickering for the past hour.

"Fine," she says, hands on her hips. "I never want to see these men near my village or hear their names again. If I do, I won't ask for permission from anyone—not little girls or dead men or you Kage—to kill any of them. Understood?"

"Agreed," Shikamaru sighs, shaking his head. "We are agreed to an overall pardon on Ame with the exception of Pain and those still loyal to him."

"We should begin our preparations for the real task at hand then," Kurotsuchi says, stretching with a girlish smile as she stands. Gaara makes a motion with his hand, and a set of shinobi from the shadows join him as he rises.

"My men are already assembled," he says blankly, as though bored with all that's transpired. The other Kage glare at him, save for Shikamaru, who is ordering my father and the others to be released from their bonds. I take it the others have disregarded Gaara for a long time. _He became Kazekage at a very young age, _the Ten-Tails informs me, _He is adored by his own people, by his family, and his friends within Konoha. But the Kage dislike his youthfulness and willingness to put terms of peace and tranquility above that of power and suppression._ Suddenly, as if he can hear the conversation inside my head, Gaara turns to me, and approaches. He stops two yards from where I stand. "If you would accompany my team, I would be honored. I have things I would like to discuss with you."

"You plan to leave without the rest of us?" the Raikage mutters gruffly, the last to stand, but hasty to do so when he realizes it. Gaara turns back to him.

"My priority has been Pain all along," he says, his voice like velvet. It is beautiful and frightening in one. "My desire to see him put down surpasses many of yours."

"Oh?" the Mizukage inquires, eyebrow raised. "Your loss outweighs ours?"

"Well, he did kill me," Gaara points out. I blink. The others are silent. Begrudgingly silent, but quiet nonetheless. He turns back to me when no one has anything else to say. "Would you travel with me, Madara?"

"I would like that," I say, hesitating only briefly before I give him a nod. "Could you give me a moment with my family before we depart?"

"Of course," he agrees, and begins to move past me. "We will wait for you outside the manor."

On his way past, I don't fail to notice that he stops to place a hand on my mother's shoulder, sharing a quiet moment with her I don't entirely comprehend. Perhaps it is grief over Naruto, or simply a transference of respect. I don't know what it is, but I can tell how much my mom appreciates the gesture. Her eyes are still glistening from her talk with Naruto, but they are clear as she smiles gratefully to Gaara, touching his hand with her own lightly.

As they share their moment, I take the opportunity to rush to my father, where a couple of my siblings have already gone. They make way for me, though, and it's kind of weird. Like I've become someone different in their eyes. Someone important. A part of me wants to snap at them for it, but I don't want to waste any of the Kazekage's time, so I get down to business. My father, now unbound and unblinded, looks at me. There is a special, quiet fire in his eyes that warms me from head to toe. His indifference toward Naruto wasn't personal, and as bothersome as it is to me, it's reassuring to know Itachi Uchiha will always have emotion to spare for me.

"It isn't every day a father thanks his daughter for his life," he says, his hand touching my cheek in a fond, unfamiliar manner. I smile despite myself for liking it. Still, I shrug.

"Naruto saved you," I amend softly, and he pauses. "I only asked him to. The Kage don't care what I have to say."

"And Naruto does not care about me," he replies. His hand rests atop my head, large and comforting and normal. "If not for you, there would have been no reason for him to convince the Kage of anything. I'm thanking you, Madara. Will you not let me?"

"That would mean I'm not being difficult," I say, grinning. It's a foreign feeling again, but I like it. And it brings yet more life and light to my father's dark eyes. "I can't not be difficult."

"Of course not," he chuckles softly, ruffling my hair. I'm glad it's so short. With a furious shake of my head, it straightens out just fine again. Suddenly, Deidara and Kisame are there, both of them nudging me playfully and messing up my hair again.

"Look at you, saving our asses twice in one week, hn," Deidara teases, and I laugh girlishly. I've always thought he was rather pretty. It feels good to have him smirking at me like that so approvingly.

"Itachi, your daughter's making us look bad," Kisame chuckles good-naturedly. I raise my head in a mockingly superior manner.

"Maybe you Akatsuki members should start picking your game up, huh?" I suggest, and they both chuckle at that. In more seriousness, I ask, "Are you going to help us search for Pain?"

"If that's what you'll have us do," Kisame says, crossing his arms and grinning at me. "We're yours to command, princess."

"Just say the word, hn," Deidara assures me, casting an irritated glance toward the other shinobi. "They can get over it. Though we'll need our equipment back… My eye is starting to bug the hell out of me, hn!"

"We'll prepare ourselves for the second launch of shinobi," my father tells me as he ushers Deidara out of the way. "I believe you've been invited to accompany the Kazekage with his team."

"I have," I tell him with a nod. "I'm looking forward to being able to speak with him. The Ten-Tails remembers him, and it seems like he really likes him. So I feel like I can trust him in a different way."

"Gaara was a Jinchuuriki," he says, and I shake away my surprise. Of course he would know that. For all I know, he was the one to capture and bring him to Pain for extraction. Like he did Naruto. "It's no surprise if you share a connection with him you won't have with anyone else, in the same way you share a bond with the Hokage's son."

"Right…Shika…" I mutter, glancing his way. He's just standing there, in the shadows. Alone. Rosebud eyes on me. "I still don't know what to do about him…"

"You'll have time to figure it out later," he assures me, hand comforting on my shoulder. "Right now, we have bigger matters to concern ourselves with. Go with Gaara. Approach Pain with caution, though, Madara. And heed Tobi's words if you run into him on your way. And the demon's. Pay close attention to what the Ten-Tails has to say about the way things will unfold from now on."

"You're still keeping stuff from me," I sigh, and he smiles briefly and sadly. I glance away, but then nod. "Alright. I'll be ready for whatever's happening. I have to go, though. You'll come after us?"

"Of course," he promises, and leans down to kiss my forehead gently. He's never done that before. It makes me warm inside. "I have faith in you, Madara."

I say good-bye to my brothers and sister, too. Then Ryu. He wants to come with me, but I tell him I want the chance to speak to the Kazekage personally, one-on-one. I ask him to come with my brothers and sister when they are ready instead, and he agrees without much fuss. There's a certain respect for me in his eyes now, and it both pleases me to see it and irritates me that it took so long for it to show up. And then my mom. That's a little awkward, but she embraces me tightly against her, and I can't help but return her affection despite all the anger I've harbored toward her in the past. With this clean slate, I feel like we can let everything wash away and start fresh from here on out. That's what I would like to think. That's what I really hope. After that, I'm ready to go. The Hokage offers to have someone fetch weapons for me, but I decline. If we run into Pain, no amount of artillery is going to make a difference. Besides, the greatest weapon I have is purring deep inside me.

* * *

><p><strong>I AM SO SORRY. <strong>

**My life has been INSANE. I am trying really hard to write, but it's SO HARD. :( Hopefully, though, some of the craziness in my life will serve as inspiration for more original writing I've been working on. I really miss the fanfictions, though, and all of you who stick with me despite my horrible lack of activity. I'm trying to wrap this story up, and then maybe sneak in a couple oneshots. Ideas, anyway? It's been really hard to think, lately, so give me ideas, thoughts, requests, anything at all from any fandom you think I'll write for. Which is pretty open at this point. **

**Also, thanks to all who were concerned about my boyfriend breaking up with me at the beginning of the semester. Looking back, I am relieved that all of that is over and done with. It was a bad relationship, one focused on him and all that his selfishness and childishness demanded. I made a mistake here and there, but I think it's safe to say the overall issue was that I was too much for him to handle and it was just time to move on to greater things. I have found a person who makes me happy, but that it a complicated, long story all in itself. I might right a fanfiction about it-lord knows our relationship is dramatic and crazy enough for one. No, I'm not seeing anyone, but I've let my life become focused more on me and my happiness, and much more on my work in theatre in school. It's been opening up a lot of doors for me, which has kept me busy, but much more content. **

**Love you all, and I hope the wait was worth it,**

**AnimeCountDown**


	15. A New Era

I expect to go rushing out into battle or something, but we leave Ame as though we have all the time in the world. The Kazekage doesn't say anything as we walk down the unkempt road and rain drizzles lightly over us. A misty kind of rain that's almost more annoying than a downpour. His shinobi are quiet, too, but I can tell from their stride, the hold of their heads, and their unbreakable confidence that they are hand-chosen, loyal-until-death soldiers. The kind Pain could never have because despite all the fear he inspired, no one ever loved him. The men and women surrounding the Kazekage clearly adore him, and would go through all of hell to protect him.

It's when we're far enough away from Ame that it's a blurred grey smear on the horizon and the trees that were once in the distance are looming over us that he decides to speak. As we pass beneath the canopy of trees, not lush and full of life like the ones in the Land of Fire, but crippled and twisted, he gives an unseen gesture to his squad that has them disperse into the haunted, bogged-down forest without another word. I glance around us in momentary surprise, then turn back to Gaara, expecting him to begin. He doesn't. Not until I'm no longer expecting it.

"I am sorry," he says, so softly, I think I'm hearing voices inside my head again. I look at him questioningly, tempted to stop, but he shows no sign of slowing down, so we walk and talk instead.

"Why?" I pry curiously. His eyes are lifted to something I can't see in the branches. Toward the sky that peeks at us through the tangle of trees with its mask of angry dark clouds.

"Being a Jinchuuriki is not a life anyone should have to be subject to," he answers, and even if I hadn't already known about his past, I would have believed him. Believed that he knew my struggle. The hardened pain there is not fresh or angry, not even bitter. It is the kind of agony that has been molded and coated over time until it is fossilized somewhere deep down inside, always there and never moving, but in a state of being that no longer truly touches you or anyone else. It has changed you and with it, life will never be the same, but it is at rest somewhere, along with all the memories. "I am sorry that it was chosen for you. I had hoped Naruto's strength and tenacity would prevent Pain from bringing about the Ten-Tailed Demon's existence. I, myself, proved too weak, as did all the others. I think it was his lack of discipline that drove him into Akatsuki's arms in the end. He was a great man. Always wanting to charge in with emotions blazing rather than sit back and think about the best next move. It was an amazing quality to see in someone so driven and powerful."

"Was it so amazing if it ended up getting him killed?" I ask, not trying to be cruel. I'm merely responding to Gaara's words, and his lack of malice makes fearing his potential response difficult. As I expect, he replies calmly and without irritation.

"Naruto did not get himself killed," the Kazekage corrects me. "No one gets themselves killed unless they take their own life by their own means. Naruto didn't kill himself. No part of Naruto killed him either. Your father did."

I don't say anything to that. A part of me feels ashamed, but a greater part reprimands any sense of guilt over Naruto's death. I wasn't even _thought_ of when the Nine-Tailed Demon was extracted from Naruto, let alone born or held responsible. At that point, Pain's plan was to become the Ten-Tailed Jinchuuriki himself, though I imagine nobody outside my family actually knows that. If they did, it would prompt questions as to why the demon had ended up inside me instead, and nobody's asked anything like that yet.

"It's the way of this world, I've come to learn," Gaara goes on, and I feel compelled to give him my undivided attention. Even if what he's saying didn't ring with profound wisdom and insight, I think I would still feel obligated to give this man my time. He was a close friend to Naruto after all, and for that, I immediately have great respect for him—plus, the Ten-Tails likes him. "At first, I was angry about Naruto's death. He was a very special person to me. He not only changed my life entirely, but saved it as well, literally brought me back from death with the help of another shinobi after my demon was extracted."

"That's amazing," I breathe, blinking. "I never thought surviving an extraction was even possible."

"It isn't," he says. "I died. The jutsu that brought me back traded my life for another one in its place. Without Naruto's chakra, the jutsu might have failed, but it succeeded. One of my village elders died, sacrificing herself for what she believed to be a brighter future. A hope Naruto himself instilled in her."

"I'm sure she must have had faith in you as well," I say softly. He looks at me, then, for the first time since we left Ame. His eyes are piercingly blue, and I stare into their frosty depths with shortened breath. Those eyes have seen so much. They are almost like my father's.

"That's what people say," he says quietly, and then looks back in front of him again. Everything about him, from his refined posture to his delicate features teems with regality. He was meant for this position. "I was once very disturbed. As a child, I did not take the pressures that came with being a Jinchuuriki very well, and I did many awful things to the people around me. To people I knew and those I didn't. To people I was supposed to love. Except I didn't think I could love. Sometimes, I didn't think love even existed at all. All I saw was a blind, hateful rage that consumed all parts of my life."

I can't imagine this man ever being filled with such emotion. He is so passive and blank-faced, it's almost difficult picturing him as anything but objectively indifferent. But in his eyes, I see the pain of his past actions, of his mistakes and sins. I wonder if the faces of those he's killed haunts him too. If their screams echo in his ears. Or has he come to terms with it, as I so recently have? My guess would be the latter. His nature truly is like that of my father's more than that of mine, and I am suddenly inspired and compelled to chase after such a content, at-peace-with-the-way-of-things mindset.

"Naruto changed that?" I guess, and he gives me one silent, single nod that turns his gaze to the ground in front of us. I observe him for a moment. He discarded the Kazekage robes before we left, and beneath the bulky formalwear is a red cotton and grey leather ensemble similar to that of his fellow Suna shinobi, yet much more elaborate. It isn't flashy or anything, but the way his high collar wraps around his neck and the hem of his robes dusts the ground and the one-shouldered vest fits snugly against what I assume is a heavily muscled torso…he looks very much like a desert prince of sorts. I eye the large gourd strapped to his back. It is made of clay, is cracked and age-worn, but has an air of immortality to it I dare not question. He didn't have it with him at the trial, not anywhere I could notice, anyway. I wonder what's in it only briefly before he captures my attention again.

"As furious as I was when he died, the lessons he taught me in life put my mind at ease," Gaara says. "He was a person of the utmost compassion. He epitomized happiness and hope, and many other things we try so desperately to find in ourselves. I know, that though his death was early and tragic—and that he could have done many great things had he lived on until today—he serves his people even now, as a martyr who fought for what was right until the very end. Naruto was unswerving in his adamancy that we uphold the laws of courage and honor and peace. Love and loyalty, and forgiveness most of all. I try to honor his memory every day in making decisions that would be easier solved through deceit or bloodshed. Instead, I seek the more difficult routes as Kazekage, by ruling through patience and love rather than intimidation. I believe, in the end, it will be worth the extra effort, and somehow, I can bring some of Naruto's dreams to fruition in my own village for his sake."

"I know he appreciates that greatly," I tell him quietly. His bright eyes cut to me, still impossible to read. While all of him looks so young and beautiful, his eyes are ancient. That is what they are. They are _old. _I have to remind myself that while this man looks not much older than myself—at most, Koto's age—he has been alive long enough to be my father. I take a deep breath and say, "He thinks very highly of you. I haven't talked to Naruto much about anything other than my family and…well, me… But I could tell, when he saw and spoke with you, that he cares for you deeply. You were very important to him, and he is happy for your success."

"That is good to hear," he says, and suddenly, a smile touches his face, and I'm floored again by his angelic features. How surreal and lovely they are despite all he's said of his own evil. "Thank you."

"The Ten-Tails, too," I blurt, not really knowing why. I simply need something to say to distract myself. Gaara's smile fades in seriousness—not an angry kind, but more a curious one. "He was happy to see you well. I still have all the memories of his time split into nine different demons, and he was fond of you in particular."

"Shukaku was easy enough to get along with," he tells me, nodding. He thinks on what I've told him for a moment, tilting his head slightly after a long stretch of silence. "That is interesting."

"The Ten-Tails is very different from his nine separate forms," I explain hurriedly, wanting to defend the demon I've become so fond of despite all the ruin his existence has brought my life. I cannot blame Pain's actions on him, after all, and if not for the Ten-Tails, I wouldn't be here at all. In more manners than one. "He is…the best parts of all nine, but in one entity. He defines many of their better qualities. The Nine-Tails, for instance. He has the same ferocity and protective instincts as the Kyuubi, but without the unwarranted malice and bloodlust."

"I see," Gaara says. "I came to terms with my demon when I was young. It was a difficult process once Naruto helped me see the better ways of life, but I managed it. I am happy to see such peace within you as well."

"It's been a difficult road to get here," I laugh nervously, rubbing the back of my neck as I think on the past few weeks and how hectic they've been. I twirl a strand of my short hair around my finger and shrug. "But I think I'm in a good place right now, and that makes me happy. Mentally, at least. And that's never really happened before. Up until a few days ago, I had to take medicine for all the mental disorders I was born with… Not real mental disorders. Just a lot of post-traumatic stress disorder, from the things Pain filled my childhood with. And from the ghosts of the past Jinchuuriki haunting his—and as a byproduct, my—mind. They never bothered him. They were just there because of him. And then, of course, were the demon beads. But that was just recently, and a long story I don't really want to get into… But, the medicine I took made things make sense. It put things into an orderly perspective. When I didn't take my medicine, I saw the world through weird lenses. I made connections where there really weren't any, and sometimes, I catch myself still doing it. I think I'm just kind of crazy because of it all."

"You seem sane to me," Gaara notes. I laugh out loud at this.

"Naruto helped a lot," I say, biting my lip and quieting my laughter. "His presence is almost literally like a light shining inside all my dark places. Before, it was such a quiet, dim light I couldn't really see it. But now it fills me with a beautiful clarity I've never imagined. So…I still feel different from everyone else. I still feel like I'm on another plane that puts me apart from those around me. But I guess I understand their world too, now. If that makes sense."

"It does," Gaara says. "You have learned how to acknowledge and observe those who are on a different plane rather than assume everyone is on the same one. In doing so, you can fill your mind with the perspectives of many souls and not just your own. That kind of freedom—that light you speak of—has touched many of the people in Naruto's life. Myself included."

"Yeah…" I say softly under my breath, not really sure what will come next. Nothing does for a time. We walk peacefully beneath the trees, and somewhere along the way, I notice it's stopped raining. I wonder if we're actually searching for Pain, or if we're just strolling. Or both. Gaara seems like the kind of man who could pull off anything. "Um… No offense, but why did you want to speak with me? Was it just to reminisce with someone who's been in your shoes? Or… I mean, I appreciate it and I'm enjoying it, but I'm just a little confused…"

"I did ask to speak to you for a more important reason," he tells me, suddenly stopping. I blink and follow suit. We are alone, surrounded by midday mist and trees as old and ugly as time, but I am not afraid. I instinctively trust this man whole-heartedly. "The other Kage each desperately wish for you to come to their villages, and each one will go through horrible means to convince you it is the right path. Or they will resort to force now that you are not Ame's treasure. Already, Shikamaru has done something merely for the sake of his village's safety that has surprised many, including me."

"You mean Shika…" I say slowly, to which he nods. But that isn't what the Kazekage wants to speak to me about—not at all.

"I do not want to pressure you into doing anything you do not wish to do," he tells me, capturing me with the sincerest of gazes. "I understand the feeling of obligation that comes with being Jinchuuriki, with being a part of a family you wish to protect and put first more than any village. If ever you need a place to go to, temporarily or permanently if you wish, Suna's gates are more than open to you. Our land is unlike anything you've probably experienced. There is no rain like in Ame, or abundant life like that in Konoha. It is a dry, barren place befitting of its name. But there is a calmness to it, and you might appreciate it if you got used to it. This is not a plea or request for you to be our Jinchuuriki. It is simply a humble invitation, from one friend to another."

I don't know what to say at first. My mouth works, but words come neither to my tongue, nor my mind. I tilt my head for a moment, then turn my gaze to the ground in contemplation. This wasn't what I expected at all. I've never been to Suna myself before. I know my brother was sent near the village on missions during the war. I look back up at Gaara, meet his eyes and smile kindly.

"I would very much like to come visit your village," I tell him, clasping my hands together awkwardly behind my back, because I don't know what else to do with them. I feel so nervous, like a little girl again. "Thank you very much for your offer. I have much to consider about my family's plans in the future, but I will keep Suna close in mind. I really do appreciate it."

"I am glad you feel that way," he says, another smile—which I'm beginning to think are rare and I am blessed to have seen two in such a short period of time—donning his pretty lips. He begins to walk again, and I follow him unquestioningly. "If you did decide to live there, no one in my village would be bothered by it. However, if you decided you wanted to live with your family in our village, there would be some small issues to address with our elders concerning your father. But I'm sure we could come to terms of peace."

"That really is such a kind gesture," I say, fumbling with my hands in front of me. I'm blown away that he's willing to extend his generosity to my father as well, considering he killed one of the Kazekage's closest friends. "Truly. I'm very grateful… I don't know how I can repay such an offer."

"It's not a gesture that needs to be repaid," he says simply. I nod quietly, and after a moment, I dare to ask a question that's tittered on the brink of my mind since we left Ame.

"Forgive me for prying, but may I ask which Akatsuki member was assigned to you?" I ask, and he responds with a glance in my direction, as unreadable as all the rest. I imagine this man is impossible to anger anymore, if he ever actually was. "I'm just…curious. Some of them are as dear to me as family. Which of them…brought you to Pain?"

"Deidara," Gaara answers. "The bomber terrorist from Iwa."

"He's not a terrorist!" I exclaim without realizing the words are coming from my mouth—and so abruptly. The look of surprise he gives me is subtle, but genuine, and I immediately press my lips together and look away, blushing. "I'm sorry… But Deidara is…I've come to think of him as an uncle in a way. Kisame too. I guess I don't know of them the same way you would. That wasn't very…kind of me. I'm sorry."

"How old are you?" the Kazekage inquires, stopping again. I pause, searching his face for a clue as to why he might have asked such a question. I'm so embarrassed at my outburst, I don't want to answer. "If you don't mind me asking."

"I'm…seventeen…" I say quietly. He watches me for a moment. My eyes turn to the forest floor. "I know I'm still just a child and have a lot to learn…but my family is important to me. I know they've done wrong things in the past, but…they're family. And you don't give up on family."

"Don't apologize," he says softly, and I lift my gaze to his. There is a sudden fire in his eyes, lit by compassion and nostalgia and something I cannot truly define. Something like love or hope, but far beyond either of those things. "Naruto never gave up on anyone at all, and he never had any family to begin with. You should follow that legacy. It is one you should be proud to keep close to your heart."

I can think to do nothing but nod. Nod and follow him into the forest. I don't ask where we're going or if this is even the direction Pain fled in. For all I know, we're just wandering in circles because Gaara wanted to get away from Ame and the other Kage—if I was him…well, quite frankly, I want to get away from them myself anyway. Just as me.

* * *

><p>Turns out, the others were scouting. Our leisurely pace, the Kazekage assures me, is nothing to be concerned with. Even as the sky grows dark, and no signs of other search parties, the funny masked man, or Pain arise—I do not worry. I feel unearthly safe in the company of this man. We make camp somewhere that is vaguely familiar to me, a place I believe was once a military campground for Ame soldier units. There is some shelter in the trampled clearing, enough I don't worry about rain when I glance up at the sky. It's barely visible, but the moonlight breaks through the branches even so. Before I know it, the shinobi have built a camp around us, while Gaara has me sit with him at the fire that is skillfully stoked to life before us. Together, we talk, about small and trivial things I never thought I'd ever really be able to consider.<p>

He tells me a lot of Suna and how it is living in the desert. After a lifetime of living in the rain, I tell him the idea of none at all—or rarely, as he corrects—sounds delightful. I'd have to watch out for the sunburn, though. Even in Konoha, I got it quickly. There are ointments for that, though, he says. None he has to use himself, but kinds many of the fairer travelers opt to use if they aren't used to Suna's exposure. There's a lot of wind, too, but the walls block a lot of that out. He describes delicacies I've never imagined and customs, festivities that are foreign to me. The more he tells me, the more fantastic it sounds. Too good to be true. So good I keep the thought at a distance from my heart. Getting attached is a bad idea at this stage. I'll have to give this transition—if it truly is a possibility—time.

Once camp is made, and night has settled on us, we eat—the Kazekage shares his own rations with me; despite my objections, he insists. His soldiers do not question his generosity, allowing him to do what he wishes. After a while, one of the shinobi comes to join us. She is a tall, beautiful woman who has aged gracefully and powerfully. Her coarse blonde hair is tied back eccentrically, and she wears a short kimono-styled robe paneled in mesh around her hips, shoulders, and the sides of her thighs. Earlier, she'd been wearing light armor, too, but she's removed it for the night and I'm surprised at the revealing nature of her outfit underneath. I watch her wide-eyed, my mind darting to the stories my mother told me of her tutor Tsunade, who kept her youth and beauty even as she reached a more ripened age. The woman before me is by no means old, though. There is a power in her stride no man could deny. She reminds me of what Tsuna might be when she gets older. She lowers herself onto the ground beside Gaara, so familiarly, I tilt my head questioningly.

"Madara, I'd like to introduce you to Temari," the Kazekage says, a unique fondness creeping into his voice. It's the kind of affection reserved for one person alone. The woman eyes me, smiles in a way that's more a smirk really, and reaches over to shake my hand. Her grip is strong. "She is my most trusted advisor."

"Don't let those formalities fool you," she laughs, and her voice is somewhere between snarky and feminine. It's a fascinating, sultry mix that I immediately latch onto with envy. This woman is effortless in her own skin. "I only got the job because I'm his sister."

"Sister?" I repeat, casting a glance between the two in surprise. Temari nods, and Gaara's lips turn up in a quiet, distant smile.

"Temari is very good at what she does," he insists. "She has helped keep the ties between Suna and Konoha very strong, even after Naruto's death."

"I'm old pals with the Hokage," she explains with a shrug. I raise my eyebrows in interest, blinking as my mind whirls with all the possibilities a statement like _that_ could imply. "We like to debate and play shogi sometimes. We met during the Chuunin Exams. He _almost_ beat me, too."

"He forfeit the match," Gaara reminds her gently, provoking a quirked brow and pursed lips.

"Yeah, because he's a lazy old man," she scoffs, leaning back on her elbows. "Always has been, always will be. Don't know how that wife of his puts up with it so well. How boring must _their_ life be, right?"

"Well, they have a son," I mention. They both look at me. The Kazekage's eyes are bright, and if I dare say, amused. Temari's are hard to read, but I think it's something bordering quizzical and annoyed. In a…funny way. I shrug helplessly, wishing I hadn't said anything. "It can't be _that_ boring."

The laugh I get out of the Kazekage is so light and sweet, I'm absorbed by it enough that I don't even catch the full blunt of Temari's glare. But then she chuckles, eyeing her brother and casting me an appreciative look I don't understand at first. And then my pride grows tenfold as I realize what a triumph it is to win the Kazekage's laughter.

* * *

><p>I wake to the sound of thunder, and when I open my eyes, I see the other are stirring to life as well. I can tell it's still early in the morning, just out of habit and instinct. I've lived here all my life, in this place where you hardly ever see the sun. You kind of have to guess where it is, and eventually, your brain sort of just internally digests and stores that sort of information. I pull myself upright, scanning the clearing for the Kazekage. He's near the border, discussing something with Temari and another of his shinobi. When they finish speaking, the two depart into the trees, and Gaara heads back my way. He offers a hand to get me to my feet.<p>

"We must leave early," he says, explaining briefly, "We believe we've found Pain."

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"That was…fast," I note, but the serious look on his face tells me things must not have occurred as smoothly as he made them sound. Everyone in the camp shares a quick breakfast, and then we head out once more. This time, we really pick up the pace.

Even as we shoot through the trees, it becomes increasingly obvious to me that these shinobi are not on familiar terms with this land. They don't compensate enough for some of their jumps and end up landing too hard when they hit the ground. Trees are another matter—and while many of them seem more comfortable with the branches, the moist film that coats everything provides easy slip-ups that are subtle, but noticeable to me. I have to remind myself that these ninja were trained in a constantly evolving land, where the sand shifts shapes every day and moisture is a luxury rarely found in such excess as it is here.

I mull over the Kazekage's offer briefly in my mind as we travel—I could make this trip with my eyes blindfolded if I needed to. What my family and I would do after all the Kage settled on an agreement and dispersed…well, I haven't had time to think that far ahead. We could easily stay in Ame, and would be heralded as heroes, no doubt. But the memories of that place would make me sick and weary. I don't want that anymore. I want a place where the sun is shining, and I don't have to hide my face from curious, adoring stares. As I think, I chew absently on my lower lip and wonder briefly where Ryu and I stand now that the laws of Ame have crumbled apart. He's still my fiancé…but what if we have different plans for the future? If I want to leave…and he doesn't? Would he follow me wherever I choose to go, or does he expect me to stay behind with him, and be his wife in the village of rain?

There are so many things to consider, so many different people to speak to and discuss these matters with. My parents, my siblings. I've hardly interacted with any of them at all, my memories of each person so broken and dysfunctional, it's almost as if our family is sewn together through the power of our name rather than any real bonds. Until recently, I'd only met my eldest brother once, and the memories of my father are so limited from his missions with Akatsuki. Mom never wanted to talk to anyone, and Tsuna left home when I was so little. Even still, they are my family, and that outweighs whatever issues I have with the unconventional way we have become such a close-knit unit. Even if we are unfamiliar with each other, we are one.

The others are slowing down, dropping to the forest floor one by one. I follow suit, jogging off the momentum and approaching the Kazekage, who kneels by a nearby tree. Everyone is spacing out, dispersing in pairs to check out the surrounding area. I frown in mild confusion before I catch a glimpse of what has caught Gaara's interest. My jaw drops.

"Oh my god," I breathe, and nearly collapse to my knees behind the Kazekage. He turns to me, startled, but my eyes are frozen on the corpse just a few feet away. It's white as stone and turned up to the sky, face agape with horror and disbelief. My fingers curl against my open lips, and slowly I inch forward. And every move I make feels like I'm making it through deep waters. There's no mistaking the grotesque deformations or the hypnotically terrifying swirl of the Rinnengan.

Pain is dead?

I can't breathe. Or maybe I'm breathing too fast. Either way, my lungs are malfunctioning, and I clutch at my chest, doubling onto myself as my brain and body work in a flurry to come to terms with each other. The Kazekage is leaning over me protectively, his arm coming around my back and his fingers touching my wrist. He's saying something, asking me how I am, I think, but I can't hear it. I don't want him to leave, I'm thankful he's here, but I just close my eyes and shake and try to keep breathing, because that's all I can do with news like this thrust into my soul.

He's dead.

Someone is scooping me up and taking me away, far away, somewhere where I can't see this most hideous of all dead things. I tremble uncontrollably in firm, steady arms, curl into a ball against a chest that smells of warm leather and foreign spices. We move slow, just fast enough, to the other side of the clearing, and there are people hurrying around us to find things—like the killer, a cause of death, when it happened—but I don't care. I don't try to watch or listen or pay attention, because I don't care. Because it's all over.

Pain is fucking dead.

And all I want to do is lie here and cry my overdue tears of joy.

* * *

><p>I've long since collected myself by the time the Kazekage comes to sit by me and make sure that I'm alright. He left me over here with a medic while I was still unstable, and I don't hold it against him at all—he has plenty of important things to do, being the first of the Five Great Nations on the scene of the most notorious criminal of the day's murder. I've been sitting here by myself for a while now, legs drawn up to my chest, arms wrapped around them loosely. I rest my chin on the tops of my kneecaps, staring at Pain's motionless body. A part of me wants him to try and stand, just so I can strike him down myself. There's a bitterness to that aspect—I will always wish I was the one to have killed him; but I think a lot of people have wished that for themselves, so it doesn't bother me much. The important part is that it's truly, really him that lies just yards away, and he's truly, really never getting up ever again.<p>

"I promise, I'm fine," I assure Gaara as he squats in front of me and asks if I'm sure I'll be alright. I shrug a little, embarrassed, and explain, "Remember me saying that I was born with a few…disorders? Well, I tend to overreact to things that make me emotional. I don't handle stress very well."

Understatement.

"I understand," he says with a gentle smile, reaching out to touch the top of my hand calmingly. His fingers are soft, cool, soothing to feel against my skin, where the blood's been racing hotly for far too long.

"I'm happy he's dead," I say with an affirmative nod. I twist my lips to the side as I cock my head and ask, "But who could have killed him?"

"Temari believes it was the remaining Akatsuki member your father spoke of during the trial," Gaara notes, frowning and glancing over his shoulder at the body, as if looking at it might gain him more clues. "She's relaying the information to the others now, so I'm sure we're bound to have a great deal of visitors soon. I thought you might want to know, just in case."

"Ah, yes." I immediately catch on to what he saying, casting another abashed glance at him before pushing myself onto my feet. He follows suit, waiting as I brush the dirt from my shorts before nodding gratefully. I'm glad he can understand why I don't want to be caught by all the Kage looking like a pitiful mess. "Yeah, thanks."

"It's difficult to do any kind of autopsy in this environment," the Kazekage explains, motioning for me to follow him. I swallow my nerves and step in time with him toward Pain. "But we've searched the area thoroughly, and there are no clues as to who or what did this. It's like he just dropped dead."

"Whoever it was has to have not only been godly powerful, but remarkably intelligent as well," I note, eyeing Pain's body. Whatever killed him clearly shocked the hell out of him—I don't think I'll ever get that expression, distorted and broken, out of my memories. "I've never met a person who could outsmart Pain."

"We'd be up against a considerably dangerous enemy," Gaara agrees, but his words strike me as funny.

"Up against?" I echo. "Why would we want to kill the person who hunted down Pain? Whoever it was did it cleanly and left it for us to find. I mean, if it was someone we needed to look out for, they would have extracted the Rinnengan for themselves, but Pain's eyes are perfectly intact. I don't think this person is an enemy."

"I've thought the same. But it worries me that they've left no trace of their presence here. Pain's killer would be cherished as a war hero, and yet, they want no credit for their deed?"

"That is a little odd," I acknowledge, frowning down at Pain's body. The more I look at it, the more objectively I can see it, which I like. "We should get him somewhere where specialists can figure out what killed him."

"Easier said than done," the Kazekage sighs, and I glance up to see his eyes are on something behind me. "No one's going to want to share."

I turn just in time to see the Raikage storming into the clearing, Cloud shinobi swarming behind him and rushing to pick up any tasks they can scavenge from the Sand. Pressing my lips together, I turn and square my shoulders to face him. He's huge, easily dwarfing me—and Gaara, too, actually, since he's not all that big. But I look him in the eye, lifting my chin to make sure he can only look down on me so much.

"You found the bastard like this?" he growls, eyeing the body in heavy disgust. I imagine he's one of the people who desired to smother Pain with his own hands too.

"Yes," Gaara replies, and I almost blush when I see he's made no effort to make himself seem bigger against the giant of a man. Like I have. "We're doing what we can to find any trace of the assassin."

"Haven't found him yet?" Ay laughs, to which I can't help but quirk a skeptical eyebrow.

"Feel free to look," I mutter, striding past him with a roll of my eyes. "Let me know when you don't find anything."

I ignore whatever he feels like he has to say and move my way farther into the forest instead. They can fight it out if they'd like—the Kazekage can handle anyone who shows up from now on. Right now, though, I don't want to deal with any of them. The oddities surrounding Pain's death—not to mention the death itself—still have my brain reeling, and the best thing for me is to be alone right now. I push my way through the underbrush until I can no longer hear the shinobi rummaging around for evidence. There's something comforting about the nasty, twisted branches, roots jutting up into the air, the ground an uneven patchwork of rich soil and jagged stone. I discovered these kinds of forests sometime after I'd become a genin and joined Ryu's team. On our breaks or days off—far and few as they were—I would wander around our campsites and become easily enamored with the eerie, peaceful solitude here.

They are not like Konoha's trees—large and green and brimming with summer life. No. These trees are ancient, eternal, immortal. They represent the thriving of life in the sleet and ice of winter, the soldiers that stand through time's harshest trials. There is something exciting about sliding down a steep slope that appears out of nowhere, getting lost in the semi-permanent mist that comes and goes in the blink of an eye, darting through trees that offer a bending path rather than a plain one. Of all the things I may leave behind in Ame, places like this might be what I miss the most.

But it's easy to lose my way, I'll admit. After trekking for a time, I slow down to a slow walk, and eventually to a stop. I didn't realize until now that I was out of breath. I glance around, taking in the natural quiet and stillness of the area. There's not a trace of any shinobi, not from any of the countries. I'm entirely, completely alone. I can't remember the last time I was truly alone like this. Even the Ten-Tails is quiet within me.

Exhaling slow and steady, I ease myself onto a log that is soft and crumbling from all the rain. It's freshly fallen, so a good portion of it is still sturdy enough to hold my weight. I let myself relax, and I look up at the sky. It still threatens to storm, but I'd bet we can last another hour or so before it begins to rain. For the meantime, I can be at ease with myself. For just a little while, at least.

It takes me a few minutes to notice my company.

I jump to my feet the second I see him, at first going for a kunai, but realizing at once that I neither have one nor do I really need one. My heart is thumping in my chest, but I pour out a sigh of relief when I see who it is. I put a hand to my chest in mock exhaustion, and then smile at him warmly.

"Oh, hell, you startled me!" I laugh, gesturing generally in the direction I just came. "I know it's been a while, but it's good to see you. The others are all looking for you, though. Pain is dead."

"I know," he answers, and it isn't the voice I expected. I pause, studying those robes, that mask—they are all as I remember. But that voice is out of place; it doesn't belong at all.

"You… Did you kill him?" I ask, not sure if I want the answer or not. The masked man stands entirely still, not but ten feet away at the most, by a tree that conceals his left arm and shoulder. This is not the same man in my memories. "Tobi?"

"Pain's usefulness had come to an end," he tells me, still not moving. I feel the sudden urge to spin around and run back the way I'd come. Two things keep me from doing it. "He was given an opportunity to do something great, and he failed time and time again."

I somehow don't think I'd make it if I tried.

"It's time to move on to a new era."

And the Ten-Tails has come alive.

"An era without the nations, without these corrupt laws and unjust leaders. An era that shall belong to us. Side by side. An era…of _Madara Uchiha_. _Both_ of them."

And he is purring welcomingly within my chest.

"The Era of the Inferno Princess."

* * *

><p><strong>So obsessed with Gaara. I love that I get a chance to use him in this fanfiction. <strong>

**Anywho, I hope that wasn't too obvious/easy to predict. I tried to save it and make it really obscure, but if you go back and search, you'll find the hints I dropped. Reviewing makes updates some faster. Actually, I'm going to try writing more today and tomorrow anyway, since we got snowed in and everything has been cancelled/closed/blahblahblah, yes I live in the south. Our opening night even got pushed back a day, which is super annoying. **

**AnimeCountDown**


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